The mystery deepens...........

                          Rhyme&Reason
                        By Michael Demcio
                         
                         Part II: Pawns

                         Section 1 of 4

     12:07.....
     
     Slipping into the police station through the Ranger's
secret entrance, Chip pushed open the revolving wall panel to
emerge into the main office area. Ignoring the usual bustle of
activity within the room, he carefully moved among the footsteps
of the officers and people as he looked for the place where Plato
had said to meet him. "Where all the adventures began", the
note's words repeated in his mind as he moved among the many
large wooden desks, trying to locate the spot that now brought
back a flood of memories. The layout of the desks had changed
quite a few times over the past two years since detective Donald
Drake's and Plato's retirement, but even so, Chip was
immediately able to distinguish Drake's desk out from among the
others as he caught sight of it. For there, on one of the short
legs of the desk, was the accidental mark which told of the first
time that he and Dale had met their canine friend. Lost in the
memory of that tale for a moment, Chip gazed at the mark, running
his fingers across it as his mouth drew into a nostalgic smile. 

     Reluctantly shaking himself out of his reminiscing, he
walked around the desk, only to find that Plato was not on the
chair behind the desk where he usually sat, nor on the other side
of it. "Plato?" he called out expectantly, hoping Plato would
hear him if he was somewhere else in the room, but no reply came.
Climbing atop the old desk which now bore the name of another
detective, Chip scanned the crowd in the room, hoping to spot
detective Drake from his vantage point since Plato would normally
be right near him. Upon sweeping the crowd twice, he frowned
slightly. He couldn't spot the detective either. "That's odd."
Chip muttered to himself. Turning his head, he looked toward an
office door a short distance away. /Maybe they're in the
Captain's office./ he thought to himself as he considered the
door in question. /Only makes sense that the captain might want
to have a chat with them after all this time. If he is in there,
he probably can't hear me with all the noise out here./
Descending from the desk, Chip started back toward the wall
panel, intending to gain access to the captain's office from the
hidden passageways. However, as he cast a last glance back upon
what he would always consider detective Drake's and Plato's desk,
and its telltale mark, he saw something. Something that he had
missed before. 

     /What's that?/ Chip wondered as he turned back to the desk.
Upon the floor near the marked leg, but far enough under the desk
that it wasn't easily visible, was a small, brightly colored
piece of paper. /Looks like one of those "stick on" notes./ Chip
observed. /Maybe........../ Stooping down, he reached underneath
the desk to retrieve the note paper. Grabbing it, he straightened
up and looked the paper over. "So that explains it." Chip
muttered to himself. "Sort of." he added with small note of
confusion in his voice.  The note read:  
     
     Chip,
          I must warn you lad, the game is afoot. I'll tell you
more shortly. Wait here. 

                                                  -Plato 
     
     The note ended there, with no explanation as to where the
retired police dog was, when he would be back, or what these bits
of cloak and dagger were all about. A  short, chaotic line of ink
ran off from the end of Plato's name, suggesting that the dog had
been jerked on his leash before getting a chance to secure the
note. /I'm lucky I found it./ Chip thought to himself, as he
wished that Plato could have been more specific as to what was
going on. /Still,/ he reasoned a moment later, /I guess if he
didn't have time to secure the note, then he didn't have time for
anything longer than this explanation either./ 

     Folding the note into his pocket with the other one, Chip
ascended the desk once more. Securing himself a hiding position
behind some of the stacks of files heaped upon  the tabletop, he
made himself comfortable as he prepared to wait for Plato's
return. As he settled in, keeping his gaze fixed upon the human
entrance to the station, he smiled as a feeling of excitement
rushed through him. Other than himself, Plato was the only one
among all his friends and acquaintances who held any real
appreciation of Sherlock Jones's stories. Though the canine was
not as big a fan of the detective as he was, for Plato to
have used such a quote in his message, one thing was strikingly
obvious. After many long weeks of tedious cases, whatever he and
the Rangers were about to get involved in, it was sure to be if
nothing else, *extremely interesting.*

     Checking the clock on the wall every so often, Chip watched
as five minutes rapidly went past, then five more. /I hope he
gets here soon./ Chip thought impatiently to himself, his
curiosity about the case growing steadily. /After all, he did say
time was of the essence./ The door to the station opened and
closed many times, but still his friend did not appear. The clock
was about to complete another five minutes when Chip started to
wonder whether he should go back to headquarters and bring the
other Rangers down to the station, going against Plato's earlier
instructions. Despite his excitement about the case, a feeling of
anxiousness had begun to arise in him. The fact that Plato had
said more or less, that the case involved them all personally,
along with those weird feelings of trouble he'd been having
earlier, made him feel more than a little uneasy with all the
waiting he was doing. /I'll wait another two minutes,/ he decided
finally, /then I'll head back. /

     Meanwhile, near where Chip still patiently waited for his
friend, one of the precinct's officers turned toward the ringing
sound of a fax machine, which signaled an incoming document.
Tearing off the sheet a few seconds later, the woman stared at
the document for a moment, a perplexed expression crossing her
face. After another moment, she turned and strode toward Sgt.
Spinelli's desk. 
     "Hey Spinelli!" the officer called as she approached him,
brandishing the sheet of paper. "Take a look at this. Don't you
know this guy?" Laying down his half eaten donut, the portly
sergeant accepted the document from the dark haired woman and
looked it over. A moment later, the same puzzled expression took
hold of his face. 
     "Yeah, I do." the sergeant nodded absently, still looking at
the note.
     "Well what do you make of it?" Detective Sandiego asked. 
     "I'm not sure." Spinelli answered as he scratched his head.
Then turning from the document to face her, he added, "I'll take
care of it though, Carmella. Thanks."
     "No problem." the detective replied as she turned toward her
desk. "Let me know what happens."

     Reaching over to the phone, Sgt. Spinelli cradled the
handset on his shoulder as he consulted his address book, dialing
in a number a few seconds later. Waiting expectantly as the line
on the other end rang, Spinelli frowned as he eyed once more, the
curious sheet of paper he'd laid on his desk. Finally, he heard
the line on the other end pick up.
     "How'ya doing buddy?! It's me, Spinelli! Been awhile!" the
sergeant bellowed into the phone as a wide grin spread over his
face. "What's going on?" he asked. "Mmmmhmmm. What's going on
over here? Oh, same old same old. Listen pal, about this fax
you-"
     "Hey Spinelli!" Officer Muldoon called in his deep bass
voice as he as and his partner, Officer Kirby walked into the
station and up to the Sergeant's desk. "We're gonna go get some
lunch over at Ma's diner." The tall man stated, hooking a thumb
over in the direction of the nearby popular eatery. "Wanna join
us? Ma's making the cheese chowder today."
     "Hold on a sec." Spinelli said into the phone before
covering up the mouthpiece with his hand. "Do you mind?!" the
sergeant stated crossly as he scowled at them. "Don't you see I'm
on the phone?"
     "Whoa! Sorry, man!" Officer Muldoon said defensively,
retreating a step. "Who're you talkin to?" he asked. In response,
Spinelli picked the fax sheet off his desk and handed it to him. 
     "Read this." He ordered the officer. "What do you make of
it?" Looking over the message on the sheet, the same expression
that crossed the face of the sergeant and the detective before
him, now came over the face of Officer Kirby. 
     "Beats me." the large man said with a shrug, passing the
message to his partner as he looked at the sergeant
questioningly. "I don't know of any "Chip" at this precinct."   

    "Hmmm?" Chip mumbled, turning his full attention in the
direction of the conversation a few feet away, upon hearing this
last sentence. He too, knew of no police officer named Chip who
worked at the station, unless one counted the honorary title that
Plato had bestowed on him with his badge that he had given to him
and Dale, as well as collectively to the Rescue Rangers. Curious,
he listened closer.
     "Who is this guy?" Muldoon asked, looking askance at
Spinelli.       
     "Yeah, what's this all about, Sarge? Officer Kirby asked,
looking curiously at the sergeant, shaking the fax sheet as he
finished reading it.
     "That's what I wanna know." Spinelli answered gruffly. "And
that's what I'm findin' out." Uncovering the mouthpiece, Spinelli
turned his attention to the phone once more.
     "Sorry about that buddy, thanks for hanging on. Yeah, I
wanted to ask you what's up with this fax you sent us? I mean,
what's it mean? I can't make any sense of it." A pause
followed as Spinelli listened to the reply. "What do you mean you
didn't send us a fax? Of course you did." he continued. Another
pause followed. "No, no, of course I'm not calling you a liar,
but how could you not send us a fax when I got the thing sitting
right here in front of me?.......How do I know its yours? Well
aside from the fact that its got your fax number on it, this
thing's from your own stationary for crying out loud, Don!"
     Chip blinked, wondering if he'd heard right. /*Don...?*/

     "Uh-huh." Spinelli nodded as he listened to the person on
the other end. "No receipt huh? Nothing in the trash either?
Huh!" Spinelli harrumphed. "What's that? Yeah, sure Don,
I'll read it to you. Then maybe you can figure out who's been
using your stuff." As he picked the fax sheet up from where
Officer Kirby had laid it on his desk, he looked up at the two
policemen standing expectantly before him. He sneered
disdainfully. "Looks like some kind of a prank by one of the
kids, guys." Spinelli said as he held the paper up. "Yeah pal,"
the sergeant continued as he turned to the phone once more.
"Listen to this: 'From The Desk Of Donald Drake, Director of The
Orlando City Youth League.'"
     "Donald....*Drake?*" Chip whispered in a hushed tone as the
ominous feelings from earlier began to creep up over him once
more in a small rush. "Oh, no....!"
Spinelli continued reading: "Everybody take your places and start
your engines. The game is about to begin. Better strap in though,
its gonna be a bumpy ride. By the way Chip, I think you should
know you're "barking up the wrong tree." You're mentor's having
the time of his life down here in the sunshine state. See you
back at the treehouse!" Spinelli paused a moment as he finished
the message. "Well Don," Spinelli said, as of one who didn't
expect to get an answer, "It's got *us* stumped, what do *you*
make of it?"
     "*Oh noooo!*" Chip screamed aloud as he dived over the side
of the table, taking some files along with him. With that,
Spinelli eyed Muldoon and Kirby curiously. 
     "Did you guys just hear something?" He asked uncertainly.

     Hitting the ground running, Chip bolted for the entrance
panel on the other side of the room. Careening through it wildly,
his thoughts raced through his mind at a hysterical pace,
jumbling together almost incomprehensibly as he made his way up
to the roof. /No,no,no,this can't be happening, how could Plato
still be in Florida, *how?*  That was his writing on the notes! I
even smelled his scent on them! How could this be a trick?!
*How?!* They have to be all right, they have to! Please let me be
wrong, please! Please oh please please pleeeeease let this be one
of Dale's tricks I'm gonna kill him if it is! Oh please just let
this be some kind of *joke!*/

     Attaining the rooftop, the frenzied Chipmunk sprang into one
of the three catapults that Gadget had designed. Pulling a string
as he did so, a spring loaded acorn was released into a waiting
funnel. Catching it, the funnel dropped the propelled seed onto
the release mechanism for the catapult, sending Chip skyward. As
he shot through the air towards the Ranger's oak tree home in the
park, a brief hope fluttered through his mind that perhaps
this had been some sort of diversionary trick for a surprise
birthday party. However, the hope was fleeting, fading away with
that all too familiar sense of instinct that twisted his gut in a
knot. He could only hope now, that like all the other instances
before, he would rush in to find himself wrong, and his friends
safe and sound. 

     Bouncing off the flyswatter that was tied to a branch to
break the traveler's fall, he reached out to grab the windsock
pole, riding it down to the launchpad. The hanger to the
launchpad he saw however, was closed. Rather than take the
time to bother with opening the entrance to the hangar though, he
simply dug into the tree and scrambled around to the front door.
/I don't care if I humiliate myself somehow,/ he thought as he
reached the door and grabbed for the handle, /or if I interrupt
them planning my party, I won't be disappointed, I don't *care!*/
his thoughts cried out, /just *please* let this be some kind of a
trick, *let them be all right!*/ With that, he lunged in through
the front door...............*and landed flat on his face.* 

      Grunting in pain, Chip rolled over and looked behind him.
"What the-?!" he cried, a befuddled expression wrinkling his
brow. For as he looked, he beheld a most peculiar sight behind
him. The domino playing pieces that served as their staircase for
the front door, *were missing*. "What-?" he began to say again as
he picked himself up and turned around. However, whatever words
he was about to utter, died in his throat as he did so. His eyes
widened, taking in an even more peculiar sight before him. For
before him stood not his friends, nor any trappings of a birthday
party, but a sight that could only be described as bizarre. In
the middle of the room stood a large mobile, of a nature so
sinister, a chill shuddered through his body as he looked at it. 
     
     Four daggers with long handles and wide guards hung
suspended on ropes from the ceiling, forming a square. Each
dagger was an ebony black, except for a small, intricately
carved skull which adorned each handle. The daggers hung no more
than a quarter inch above the floor, silently poised in
anticipation of their targets. Monterey's flight cap,
Gadget's goggles, Dale's Hawaiian shirt, and Zipper's red T-shirt
lay upon the floor beneath each dagger's point, seemingly
helpless to its own plight. And there was still more. In the
middle of this lethally foreboding scene stood a candle, but not
just an ordinary candle. It was a specialty birthday candle, of
the type that was found at party stores. Carved in the jesting
shape of a question mark as opposed to a regular number, the
candle stood upon a playing card, namely the ace of spades. /*The
death card.*/ Chip realized with another chill running through
him. 

     The candle was also adorned by a hat and cloak. The very
same hat and cloak that Mcduff had given to him from the Sherlock
Jones statuette in the hidden study of Baskerville manor.^ A hole
had been made in the hat for the candle's wick, from which a
flame now burned. This fire in turn, had seemingly lit four other
wicks which were thinly wrapped in wax. These wicks ran up to the
ceiling where they were connected with the ropes which held the
daggers. One final piece completed this outlandish sight. Between
him and the mobile stood a large white circle, about the width of
Chip's hat. Upon the circle lay a small folded piece of navy blue
cloth, atop which sat a piece of note paper folded in half. The
paper showed only one word, written in script. This word was
"Ready?" 

     His throat tightening with fear at the meaning of all this,
Chip ran through the treehouse, shouting his friend's names as he
tried to locate them, terrified of what he might find. However,
after checking every nook and cranny within each room, he
realized at last, that his friends had been taken. /But why?/ He
wondered anxiously. /What's this all about?/ Returning to the
living room after checking the garage, he approached the white
circle once more which surrounded the cloth and paper. With a
trembling hand, Chip reached down and carefully picked up the
note. Poised to open it, he looked down curiously at the cloth
upon which the note had sat, a slight feeling of recognition
tugging at his mind. He'd seen this cloth before, but where? he
wondered. Retrieving the cloth as well, Chip looked it over,
studying it carefully. It was soft and smooth, he observed, like
the cloth usually found in a shirt......or a sweater! he
realized, quickly sniffing the cloth to test it. /I was right!/
he thought. /This is a piece of Plato's sweater! So *that's* how
his scent got all over those notes! Pretty impressive forgery
though./ Chip admitted begrudgingly, as he considered the notes
from "Plato", still in his pocket. /How is Plato mixed up in all
this though?/ he wondered. /Claudane or Fat Cat? They *are* the
only common enemies we've both faced, but Claudane doesn't even
know that the Rescue Rangers exist, let alone where we live! Fat
Cat's a lot more likely, but even that doesn't make any sense!
Why would he go through the trouble of leading me away from the
Rangers so he can take them, when he wants all of us out of
the way altogether?/ Considering the paper in his hand, Chip
tossed the cloth aside and opened the note, wondering what he
would find. The note simply read: "A lollipop stick would cleave
this great trick. Get the point Rescue Ranger? If not, perhaps
you soon will." 

     /A lollipop stick?/ Chip thought. He gritted his teeth in
frustration. Like all the other notes, this one told him no more
than the others about why this game of cat and mouse was taking
place. Not to mention the fact that it made no sense. /Who *is*
this person, and what does he or she want?!/ That's what he
wanted to know, although from the mobile and now this note, he
doubted that the perpetrator was Fat Cat. This person was
obviously not very sane, if not a bit twisted. /Sane?/ he
wondered, Maybe *Professor Nimnul* was behind all this he
reasoned, remembering that Plato and the Rangers had also
encountered him together as well. Nimnul was obviously a bit off
his rocker at times. Also, the fact that he hated the Rangers,
and had found their home once when he and Zipper had switched
bodies thanks to Nimnul's modemizor^^, made him a likely
candidate. But that didn't make too much sense either. /Nimnul
had been horrified at being a fly. Why would he put himself
through that again to put this mobile here?/ He knew he needed
more facts. Perhaps the mobile would have some sort of clue he
could go on as to where his friends had been taken. Stepping over
the circle, he reached into his jacket to withdraw his magnifying
glass when from out of the blue, a new clue presented itself. 

     The crashing sound of splintering wood suddenly assaulted
his ears, spinning him around. He looked to find the beginning of
a black, wooden throwing dart protruding through the front door.
Ignoring his pounding heart which the sudden fright had given
him, he sprang forward hoping to catch, or at least catch sight
of the dart's thrower. However, as he tried to open the door, he
found the body of the dart hitting up against the side of the
doorway, making the passage too narrow to get through. Realizing
that it would take him too long to dislodge the dart, he rushed
through to the hangar section, planning to use the Rangerwing to
spot the thrower from the air. However, as he tried to open the
mailbox door, he found that he couldn't, no matter how hard he
pushed. Upon inspecting the seam where the door met the entrance,
he instantly discovered why. The door had been welded shut to the
mailbox. Resisting the almost overpowering urge to scream in
frustration, Chip pounded his fist against the hangar entrance
and tromped back toward the front door, seething in anger. /This
just isn't my day./ He grumbled menacingly to himself from
between clenched teeth. /Not to mention this not being a good day
for the others. Realizing that the perpetrator was by now long
gone, he set himself to the task of pushing the dart back through
the door, the project taking him almost half a minute. As he
worked, he considered the last note he'd received. "Get the point
Rescue Ranger? If not perhaps you soon will." he remembered. If
he hadn't absently closed the door behind him upon getting up
from the floor, the large playing dart might have surely hit him
instead of the door and he really would've "Gotten the point."
/Whoever this person was,/ Chip thought grimly, /they have a
pretty sick sense of humor./ 
     
*****

                         Section 2 of 4

*****
     Finally succeeding in pushing the dart back through, he
opened the door to find yet another note, this one tied to the
dart's body. "Oh brother, *now what?*" Chip stated disgustedly as
he untied the note and opened it, wondering what sort of idiotic
message he would find this time. However as he opened it and
read, he saw that this message was quite different from all the
others. Written in a long column, like a poem, it read as such: 
TO THE SO CALLED LEADER OF THE RESCUE RANGERS the message
began, fairly dripping with contempt: "There is a game, that we
all must play, where some must leave, while others may stay. And
while we play it most every day, it still is grim the tolls we
pay. For though you've played it many times, you've never faced
it with my rhymes. So win the game today you must, for the lives
of your friends in you they trust. From this I mean your friends
must be met, before in the West, the sun it does set, for on that
moment, after terrors galore, with the a push of a button, they
will be no more. The reason I have challenged to play you today,
is since I believe quite not what you say. That
you are a sleuth, a gumshoe as such, of this as I've said, I
believe it not much. Your standing's quite false, for you've
never faced, any hard clues, nor any pace, that pits time against
you, as it does here, and the clues you shall find, are extremely
severe. There's one at each place, if you do get that far, though
you'd have better luck, to wish on a star. For I know how you
think, and I know how you act, so to beat you now Chip, I have
every fact. And one more last thing, that you should now know, to
Foxglove or others you should not go, for this game is your's
solely, this must be quite clear, since help from anyone, would
only I fear, turn your friends chances from slim straight to
none, and since I'll be watching, their fate would be done. For
Gadget's inventions the same must be said, since the only tool
that you may use is your head, or your friends, need I say, they
would just be quite dead. And after all as I'm sure you'd agree,
all a sleuth needs, as a real one would see, is only his wits and
then nothing more, for a pretender detective is truly a bore.     
So now as you go through twist and wind, of the city's vast
canyons I'd keep in mind, as a miser would bet his very last
dime, that *there is no reason, without the rhyme*. Here then 
Ranger, is the tip that's now due: Where you live, as others do
too, is where you'll now find, your very first clue. Oh, and
don't touch the mobile, for the day it ticks through. 
                                                  
Dr. Ivana M. Killjoy.

     /So that's what this is all about!/ Chip thought in alarm.
/A test! I have to solve the clues I'm being given in order to
find them!/ His brow furrowing, Chip stared hard at the signature
below the message. Dr. I.M. Killjoy was a character in a spy
thriller/mystery novel he had once read. Killjoy was an extremely
brilliant physicist who ultimately had ended up turning against
the law. In the plot as the heroes had tried to counter her plan,
Dr. Killjoy's pursuers had found her to be an extremely
perceptive opponent. She possessed an uncanny ability read
people, anticipating ahead of time what her pursuers would do as
well as her quarry, almost as if she could read their minds.
Unfortunately, in addition to being brilliant, Dr. Killjoy had
also become extremely unstable and was sometimes extremely
violent, even to innocent bystanders. She could go from sane to
crazy at the drop of a hat. If whoever was holding the Rangers
captive was associating with this character he knew, *they
were in *really* big trouble.* The  situation had one extra
problem to consider. In the book, Dr. Killjoy had never kidnapped
anyone, or left weird little calling cards like rhyming letters
or macabre mobiles like this one. It was obvious from this that
while his mysterious opponent may be acting out a fictional
character, she was clearly not following out the *plot* of the
book. 
     
     Reading over the poem once more, Chip swallowed hard as he
turned to face the mobile again, the malevolent message having
actually served to put the crazy thing into perspective. The
question mark with his replica of Detective Jones's cloak and hat
represented him, and his questionability as a detective. The fact
that it was a candle and it was his birthday, was an extra twist
on a very sour note. The entire thing was a timer of some sort.
The wicks that led up to the ropes supporting the daggers were
probably made long enough to last until sunset. If he didn't find
the other Rangers before that time, the flames would burn the
ropes holding the daggers, causing them to fall and.........

     A lump constricted Chip's throat as tears began to well up
in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists, crumpling the paper.
Somewhere out there, his friends might be hurt at this very
moment, or be getting tortured somehow, he mused, remembering the
line "after terrors galore." They might even eventually pay the
ultimate price, and all because of some sick lunatic's hatred of
him and her twisted idea of a game. His mind began to panic,
as it considered the possibilities. What if despite his best
efforts, he couldn't get to them in time? What would he do if he
never saw them again? What if he found them and they were...?
Savagely, he swiped the tears away from his eyes as he glared at
the mobile in hatred. /No./ He thought seethingly, as he barely
controlled the urge to tear the mobile asunder, /No way is some
psychopath going to take away my friends, not after all we've
been through together./ he vowed silently to himself. /I'll
figure out whatever clues she can throw at me, and I'm gonna find
them. And after I find them, I'm gonna track down whoever's doing
this, and I'm gonna-/ His thought stopped there abruptly, as he
closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples, forcing
himself to calm down. /No./ he thought, this time more calmly.
Getting angry or upset is only going to work against you. That's
what this lunatic wants. Whatever you do, you've got to stay
calm. The only way you and the others are going to get through
this is with clear, logical thinking./ "Okay," he whispered to
himself with conviction, taking a deep breath,........"let's do
it."  

     Opening his eyes, he uncrumpled the message in his hands and
reread the clue that he was given. "Where you live, as others do
too....." He murmured to himself as he began to
reason out the words. /This *can't* be talking about something
too general like living on the Earth or in the park, those would
take too long to search. This has to be talking about the
treehouse right here./ he surmised. /Although..../ he thought,
/we *do* have maps of the globe, and of the city that shows the
park!/ Running over to where the maps were kept on  the wall, he
rolled down the two he needed. Pouring over them from top to
bottom with his magnifying glass, he searched, looking for some
sort of hidden writing, or some clue which would lead him to the
next place and the next clue. Coming up with nothing after going
over them twice, he stood back from the maps, observing them from
a distance in case he was missing some sort of subtle "big
picture" clue. Still nothing struck his eye, though. Even going
so far as to check the blank backs of the maps for anything, as
well as the holders they rolled up on, he still came up empty. 

     /Well this hunch didn't pan out./ he thought. /Unless I'm
still missing something. But what?/ Mulling over what to do for a
moment, he started off toward the room that he shared with Dale.
/Only thing to do now is start checking the rest of the house,
and maybe I'll think of something I missed on those maps. Better
start with my room. he thought. Even though I only live there
with one "other" and not "others", like the message says,
its the best I can come up with right now. If I can't find
anything there, I'll have to start taking apart the rest of the
house./ he shook his head. /Brother that's gonna take awhile if
it comes to that. But what can I do? I just have to follow every
hunch I get./ he realized, somberly.   

     Reaching his room, he paced around a few steps, observing
everything as he tried to decide what to inspect first. /I guess
I'll start with the-/"Whoa!" he called aloud, stopping short in
his tracks. Turning to a portable radio of Dale's which was
leaning against the wall, Chip switched it on. /I need to find
out when the sun sets today, he thought as he tuned it to a news
station, so I know what sort of a deadline I'm...working...with./
With a grimace, Chip shook his head as he chided himself,
continuing to tune the radio. /I wish I hadn't used the word
"*dead*line"! he thought, grimacing at the unintentional
connection between his statment and the situation.

     Listening as the voice of newsman Pierce Jefferies began
blaring out from the headphones, Chip began to search the room.
Some minutes later, He had almost finished examining all of his
belongings when Jefferies finally began to announce the weather.
A few items followed before he got to what Chip wanted to hear.
"Sunrise today was at 6:10, while sunset will be around 6:45
tonight. For tonight, we should be expecting-" 
     "6:45." Chip said to himself as he looked though some
newspaper clippings of a few of their old cases. "It's somewhere
about 12:25 now...." he breathed, trying to force down
the feeling of panic that started to stir within him again. "Not,
much time." he whispered grimly, as he continued to scrutinize
the articles, "Not much time at all."
     "We now take a moment to pause for station identification."
the newsman continued. Putting down the articles, Chip got up to
shut off the radio. He knew he would be able to think a bit
better without the extra noise. "This is WTFB. All news, all
the time. At the tone, the time will be exactly 12:30....Beeeep!"
His hand poised above the switch as the radio's time marking tone
went off, Chip gasped in surprise, his eyes widening as they
twinkled with enlightenment. He'd said it only a moment before,
but somehow it had taken the announcer's words and that tone for
the very idea to hit him like some divine inspiration.
     "Time!" he said excitedly. 

     Racing back to the living room at breakneck speed, he
skidded to a halt at the watches which hung upon the wall. The
four watches which indicated the proper time in New York, London,
Tokyo and California were all functioning normally, but he knew
almost without a doubt that there would be something very
abnormal about all of them. First though, he would need a tool.
After making a quick trip to Gadget's workshop to get the
instrument she used to pry off the battery covers when the
batteries needed replacing, he lifted all the watches off their
hooks. Placing the watches on the floor, he worked off one of the
covers with a hopeful grin as he repeated to himself once more
what he had realized back in his room. /We may not all live
within the same time zone, but as an abstract concept, everyone
lives *within time!*/ As he succeeded in getting the first cover
off, he realized that his strange hunch had been right. A note
lay wedged between the battery and the battery cover, folded into
a shape which covered the battery casing like a blanket. As he
carefully removed the paper, two other unusual items struck his
eye. A small sliver of metal, thinner than the width of a staple
had been connected from the paper to the inner circuitry. He
wasn't aware of it's existence until upon removing the paper, the
metal shaving coming free along with it. The second unusual item
was that battery was being held in place upon the battery
terminal by a piece of electrical tape. 

     Wondering what the reason was for these two unusual
modifications, Chip laid the paper aside and gently turned the
watch back over. Doing so, he got his answer. The tape kept the
battery in place, keeping the power to the watch consistent,
while the shaving had somehow disrupted the circuitry slightly,
changing the screen. Now instead of numbers upon the digital
screen, the display only showed the letters "NDRY". /NDRY?/ Chip
wondered as he stared at the screen. /Maybe the note'll help me
understand what these letters mean./ he thought as he turned to
the note and opened it. The note he found however, was only part
of a message, constituting only two words as the watch screen had
showed only two letters. Going through the same procedure for
each of the watches, Chip had soon pieced together the two
messages, though as yet, he still had no idea what they meant.
While the message from the watches incomprehensibly spelled out
NDRY-C-18-8D, the message from the notes was slightly more
understandable. The message read, reading once more like a poem:
"Where leaves may turn, this very same season, you'll find there
a forest, and a new rhyme to reason."

     /Leaves?/ Chip wondered. Getting up and going back to the
front door, he opened it carefully, knowing full well that though
he didn't know from where, he was being watched. However, it
wasn't to try and locate the Ranger's hidden assailant that
brought him outside, it was to ponder this latest clue. Looking
up and around him, his eyes drank in the rich fall colors of the
turning leaves. Magnificent golds, reds, oranges and yellows 
surrounded him in every combination, making the park seem like
some beautifully colored painting. 
     
     Frowning in thought, he went back inside a few moments later
and began studying over the maps of the parks, countrysides, and
all wooded areas that surrounded the city. Ten minutes later, he
pushed the maps aside. Leaning against the wall, he stared out
into space, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular. /From
that last clue along with her introduction poem, I know one thing
about who I'm up against./ he thought. "Dr. Killjoy", whoever
this
person is, enjoys abstract concepts. The only trouble is, I can't
think of an abstract concept having to do with leaves that would
give me a clue of exactly where to go. There's just too many
areas with forests right outside the city!/ Glancing over at the
watches, he pushed himself off the wall. /Maybe the other message
will give me an idea./ he thought hopefully.  

     Grabbing a nearby pencil and a piece of paper, Chip jotted
down both messages from the watches and notes, holding it before
him as he paced. /They probably work together somehow. But how?
The only thing this code reminds me of, is a license plate.
Though it couldn't be from California. California plates only
have seven places. A vanity plate perhaps?/ he considered. /You
know, I'll bet this has something to do with ACA, the Automobile
Club of America. They both have license plates and travel places
in common./ Turning, he started toward where the phone books were
kept. /I'll need to find a branch office so I can check out
thi-./ "Wait a minute." he said, his train of thought braking off
in mid stride as a new one began. "Where leaves *may* turn?"
Looking again
at the message from the watches, his mind backed up to what he'd
said before. Grabbing the pencil, he made a few quick notations
upon the paper, looked at it, and closed his eyes while uttering
an astounded chuckle. /I wish I knew more about psychology,/ he
contemplated with a grin, /since my subconscious seems to be
giving me a lot of help here. First with the time clue, and now
this./ 

     The message was indeed a code.  The first code that had ever
been devised in fact. It was the simplest code of all. That in
itself, was the catch. /"Killjoy" may be loony, or just plain
evil,/ he thought, /but she sure knows how to play mind games!/
After dealing with the last clue which had indeed been complex or
"severe", he had expected that the same sort of complex thinking
would have been in this clue as well. The fact that he'd thought
the clue would be hard, had tricked him into thinking that way
when it was in fact the *wrong* way. The clue was almost absurdly
simple, at least to him. Turning the letters he was given into
their corresponding numerals, and vice versa for the numbers, he
came up with 14825 3 R H4. There was only one place where a code
like this was used, or at least most of the code. *A library.*
The beginning of the poem clue left little room for doubt. The
"leaves" the composer was talking about were the leaves of a book
he realized, not the leaves on the trees. /Besides,/ he thought,
/when you were talking about a tree, how could you say "leaves
*may*
turn" when they always would? While On the other hand, the leaves
of a book could go an entire season, or even an entire year or
more without being turned./ Chip shook his head at the latest
example of "Killjoy's" mind games. /I can't believe I nearly fell
for such a stupid play on words!/ he berated himself. /I must
have gotten rusty these past few weeks./ 

     Going over to the maps once more, Chip checked the map of
the city again. There were at least four public libraries
throughout the metropolitan area, plus a considerable amount of
other libraries in places like public schools, public and private
colleges, and clubs like the YMCA. Altogether, the number was way
too many for him to search in the time he had left. However, the
last two places of the code told him all he needed to know. The
last two places having been, he'd recognized, the intersecting
lines on a grid map of the city. "Let's see," he said, tracing
the lines with his finger to their intersecting point, "H4 puts
me *here* at Heights and Ashbury. There's only one library
indicated in that section, so that's where I'm off to." Turning
toward the direction of the hangar, he  belatedly remembered that
his adversary wouldn't allow him the use any of Gadget's
vehicles. "Not to mention that it would take me a little while to
cut through the welding on the hangar entrance." he mumbled to
himself as did an about face toward the front door. 
     
     Two minutes later, Chip was perched on the roof of a bus
headed downtown, wishing that there was a way to make the city
traffic move faster. /It's almost funny./ he considered grimly as
he thought about what lay ahead for him on this adventure, /All
this time I've been hungry for a good mystery. Now that I've got
one, I wish more than anything that I didn't have it at all.
Although considering the circumstances, who could blame me?/ He
paused for a moment as he pictured his friends in his mind. 
/I wonder how the others are doing?/ he considered hopefully.

*****

                         Section 3 of 4

*****
     12:50.....

     Climbing out of the darkness of unconsciousness, Gadget
opened her eyes only to discover still more darkness. With a
groan, she raised herself to a sitting position. Trying to shake
away the fuzziness in her mind, she held a hand to her head as
she tried to recall how she had gotten here, wherever *here* was.
Within a moment, the memory came back to her. The last thing she
remembered was of the cloud of knockout gas filling the treehouse
as she and the other Rangers had tried to escape. Escape however,
they had found to be impossible, as every door and window was
instantly covered, blocking and barring them somehow, and making
them impervious to open or break through even with Monterey's
great strength. Still a little shaky from the effects of the gas,
she steadied herself as she got to her feet. 
     "Monterey?" she called hopefully in one direction. The
blackness that she was in was so total, she knew she could
literally trip over him or the others before she knew they were
there. No reply came to answer her call. "Dale? Zipper?" she
called again in another direction as she took a few steps on what
felt to be a fairly rough wood floor. Still no answer came to her
as she turned in yet another direction. "Chip?" she tentatively
called out a moment later. 
     Remembering now, everything that had happened before they
had been taken, she guessed that whoever had been behind this
abduction was also the person behind the telegram Chip had
gotten. She'd had a nagging feeling about it all along. Although
*why* their abductor would have bothered to take Chip separately
was beyond her. Still no answer came to her latest call. 

        "Anyone?!" she called out with a bit more urgency as her
worry for her friend's whereabouts mixed with the slight fear of
being in an unfamiliar situation alone. She paused to listen but
still heard no answer. She was about to call out once more when
suddenly, a rapidly welcome buzzing noise abruptly filled her
ears. "Zipper!" she called out joyfully to her invisible friend,
being only able to trace his location by his voice. "Oh I'm so
glad you're alright!" 
     "Your yelling woke me." Zipper informed her as he used her
voice to position himself near her. "Are you okay?"
     "I'm alright." Gadget replied. "I just wish we had some
light in here. Have you seen Monty ,Dale or Chip?" she asked,
"Well, not exactly seen because I know that neither of us can
see. I mean seeing them in the sense of finding them that you
would have seen them, see? At least, I don't think you can see.
You can't see, can you?"
     Zipper smiled to himself in the darkness. He'd always found
it funny whenever Gadget got stuck on a word like that. "No. But
they have to be around here somewhere." he stated, pausing a
moment later to add, "I hope." 
     The two Rangers fell silent for a few seconds as each one
considered what to do next. Finally breaking the silence, Gadget
spoke. "Well our eyes should adjust to the  darkness in a few
minutes, so maybe we should just sit tight until then. Who knows
what's in this place that we could walk into without seeing it,
or in your case, fly into."
     "Okay." Zipper agreed simply. Listening as Gadget took a
seat on the floor, the little fly used the sounds she made to
land next to her. "Where do you think we could be?" he asked as
he landed. Sweeping her hand along the floor blindly, the young
inventor gently scooped her friend up in her hand to deposit him
a moment later upon her shoulder.
     "I don't know." She replied, wondering if her own
nervousness was evident in her voice. "Right now I just wish I
knew where Monty, Chip and Dale are." To pass the time, the pair
chatted on about Gadget's hypothesis over Chip's telegram and
their abduction over the next few minutes. Both of them realized
that keeping themselves occupied would help keep their fears of
the unknown at bay. Zipper was in the middle of speaking when he
abruptly stopped and looked around in the still opaque darkness. 
     "What is it?" Gadget whispered to him nervously. 
     "I still can't see anything," he whispered back, "but I'm
pretty sure I heard a noise." he continued after a pause.
     "Like what?" a third voice suddenly asked.
     "Yaaaaaa!" Gadget and Zipper screamed with fear, tumbling
over each other as they tried to get away from the unseen
intruder. 
     "Guys! Wait! It's me! Dale!" the voice spoke up again as the
scrambling pair crashed into him, knocking him on his rump. The
scrambling stopped almost instantly.
     "Dale?!" Gadget and Zipper cried out as one.
     "Yeah. Remember me?" Dale asked in his usual innocent and
charming tone.
     "DON'T *DO* THAT!" Gadget screamed at the Chipmunk in
exasperation, trying to catch her breath. 
     "Do what?" Dale asked in genuine confusion.
     "Sneak up on us like that!" Gadget yelled as she got to her
feet.
     "You scared us half to death!" Zipper added. 
     "Sorry." Dale said with embarrassment as he to got to his
feet. "I really didn't mean to. I just woke up over by Monty, and
I heard you guys talking. I-"
     "You know where Monty is?" Zipper asked excitedly,
interrupting him.
     "Sure!" Dale replied, "Just give me your hands and follow
me." After fumbling around in the dark a moment to find one
another, the red nosed Chipmunk began to lead his two friends
forward. 
     "Don't tell me you can see already?" Gadget asked him, as
not even the vaguest rudimentary outlines were yet visible to her
through the darkness.
     "Probably no more than you." Dale replied. 
     "Then how do you know we're going the right way?" Zipper
asked.
     "I counted paces after I left Monty to follow your voices."
Dale replied. "Comes from playing "buried treasure" with Binky[]
so much."
     /Gadget smiled fondly at Dale through the darkness. He may
goof up on occasion,/ she thought, /but he certainly has his
moments./   
                         *        *        *
     "Uh? Mmmmmm, Whazzat?" Monterey mumbled drowsily as he felt
himself being shaken. "Whozzere?" he asked as he came awake, his
eyelids fluttering open to the darkness. 
     "It's me, Gadget and Zipper, Monty." Dale replied, as he
helped his friend up into a sitting position. 
     "Who'z "me"?" Monterey asked, still half asleep as he rubbed
his eyes. 
     "Me-*Dale*, Monterey!" Dale laughed. "Brother, you're a hard
one to get up!" 
     "We've been trying to wake you for the past two minutes!"
Gadget added.
     "Waltzin Matildas!" Monterey said as he removed his hands
from his eyes to rub at his temples, "Did anyone get the name of
the kangaroo that's been jumpin on me 'ead?"
     Gadget laughed. "It'll pass." she grinned. "Can you get up?"
She asked, placing her hands in his to help him if needed any. 
     As he got to his feet, Monterey looked around him.
"Crikey's! This place is blacker than the coal mines of Koperine!
Don't suppose anyone knows where's the light switch?" he stated
in a half joking tone, to which he added a moment later, "Any
idea where we are?" 
     "None." Zipper answered. 
     "All we can see so far is a whole lot of *nothing.*" Dale
added.
     "And we still don't know where Chip is." Gadget chimed in.
     Thought he knew that she probably couldn't see his face in
the stygian gloom, Monterey trained a curious look in Gadget's
direction. "What are you talking about luv? Chip's not here. He
went to that bookstore, remember? We don't even know if he got
back from there yet to find us gone." 
     "I don't think so Monty." Gadget replied, "I think whoever
sent Chip that telegram is responsible for this. Chip may have
gotten taken before we did." 
     Monterey Jack frowned at her through the darkness. "What
makes you so sure luv?"
     "I know I haven't got any proof." Gadget said somewhat
reluctantly, "But call it a hunch, call it intuition, somehow I
*know* that the two events are related. I'm *sure* of i-"
     "Hey guys!" a new voice called from somewhere off in the
distance. "Is that you?"
At the sound of the voice, Gadget cut off what she had been about
to say as her heart leapt with joy. The voice they all heard was
Chip's.
     "Chip!" Gadget yelled, turning in the direction the voice
was coming from. "We're over here!" 
     "Can you guys make your way over?!" the foursome heard
Chip's voice call out. "Follow my voice! I think I found a way
out!" 
     "We'll be right there, Chip!" Gadget said, as she started
off in the direction of the voice. "Come on guys, lets go!" she
called to the others. 
     Clasping hands so they wouldn't bump into each other, the
three Rangers broke into a trot towards Chip's voice as Zipper
sat atop Dale's shoulder.
     "This way!" they heard Chip yell.
     They continued jogging for almost ten seconds towards Chip's
voice without further instruction before Monterey finally called
out. "How far down are ya, lad? We didn't pass you did we?"
     "Nope. I'm still here." they heard Chip say from still
slightly in front of them. "In fact, you guys should reach me any
moment...*now.*" the voice said.
     Suddenly without warning as Chip uttered this last word, the
ground disappeared beneath the Ranger's feet, sending all of them
falling through space with the exception of Zipper. The screams
of the three Rangers echoed throughout the darkness for many
seconds as Zipper flew along with them, trying desperately to
latch onto one of his unseen friends. Ultimately, the three
resounding screams were punctuated by four resonant splashes.
     
     Flailing about in the bone chilling water that now
surrounded him, Dale desperately tried to right himself,
completely disoriented and unable to tell for many moments which
way was up. Finally thinking enough to relax for a moment, he let
his body float for a moment, desperately trying to keep calm
until he felt himself floating in a direction which he hoped was
toward the surface as he kicked and pushed at the water around
him. Clawing his way up through the ice cold water that
threatened to choke him, Dale broke the surface a moment later,
coughing up water and gasping for breath. He considered himself
lucky he hadn't gone too far under. With barely any breath having
been in his lungs when he'd struck the surface, he knew he'd come
close to drowning. Fighting against the coughing that racked his
body from the inhaled liquid, he tried to find the breath to
speak. 
     "Gadget! Zipper! Monterey!" he called weakly from between
coughs as he treaded water. His teeth began to chatter as he
shivered from the cold. Looking around him, the darkness was
all he could see as no reply came to his calls. Just as he was
about to panic, he suddenly heard the sound of another body
breaking the surface of the water. "Where are you?!" he called
frantically to the unseen Ranger as he simultaneously heard
someone else break the surface, behind him, followed quickly by a
third.

     "Does anyone need help?!" Dale asked as his own coughing
began to settle down, the spluttering and coughing of his friends
being bittersweet music to his ears.
     "*Aaaah!* I'm,...I'm okay." Gadget said after a moment.
"Just, f-f-freezing!"
     "Same here." Zipper replied, once his coughing allowed him
to speak.
     "I'll be alright." Monterey called out as he pounded his
chest to help get the water up. "What *Kaff!* what 'appened? We
go off the blumin high dive into the Arctic sea?" he asked as he
began to shiver. 
     "You might say that." An accented female voice replied from
above them. "Although you'll soon realize that you've all in very
hot water." With those words, there was light. 

     Bright searing beams of florescent light cascaded down from
above the Rangers, stinging their eyes, and forcing the quartet
to cover them. As their eyes slowly adjusted, they discovered
that they were in a huge glass aquarium filled with ice water.
The aquarium was situated across one wall of what looked to be an
immense meeting room, large enough to be a small auditorium. 
Looking up toward where the voice had originated, they realized
where they had been. A platform of balsa wood stretched beneath
the high ceiling of the room, held there by the scaffolding
situated below it, and contacting all the walls except for the
one occupied by the aquarium. Near the spot where the platform
dropped off into thin air, a speaker was situated into the
ceiling alongside what Gadget recognized as two infra red
surveillance cameras, one aimed at the platform, the other at the
aquarium. 
     "Where's Chip?" Zipper asked with alarm as he flew up from
the water to realize that their teammate was missing. 
     "Oh don't worry Zipper,..." the female voice with a slavic
accent began to say. "I'm right here." Chip's voice suddenly
said, finishing the sentence.    
      "We've been tricked!" Dale shouted, slapping his hand
against the water. 
     "Whoever you are," Gadget began, as she turned to look up at
the camera that was tracking them, "you were the one who sent
Chip that telegram weren't you?"
     "Very perceptive my dear Gadget, *very* perceptive. And
please, call me Ivana." the voice called down from the speaker.
     /Ivana?/ Dale thought, with a touch of trepidation. The
last time he'd heard that name..../Nah! Couldn't be....... Could
it?/ he wondered.
      "All right *Ivana*," Gadget called up sarcastically to the
camera, "Where's Chip? What have you done with him?"
     "I'll be all too glad to answer your questions," Ivana began
to say, when suddenly her voice grew as cold as the water the
Rangers were treading in. "but at a time and place of my own
choosing!" she snapped. "I'll check in on you in a little while.
If you *live* that long!" she finished, before the hiss of static
abruptly filled the speaker. 
     "She's right." Gadget said, turning to the others, "We can't
stay in here much longer, my legs are *already* starting to turn
numb."
     "Same here luv," Monterey said from between chattering
teeth. Looking up, he considered the rim of the aquarium tank, a
good foot or more out of reach. "but I should be able to get us
out of here in two shakes of a dingo's tail. One lifeline coming
up." Reaching into his trenchcoat, he felt around in the inner
pocket for the grappling line and hook he kept stored
there...*only to discover it was there no longer.* Alarmed at
this,
he quickly felt around within his other pockets, only to discover
that every bit of equipment he always carried on him, including
his good luck charms, were missing.  
     "Me pocket's been picked!" he exclaimed. 
     "Not to mention your head." Dale said.
     "Eh?" Monterey asked in confusion as he turned to face him.
     "You didn't notice your flight cap's missing?" Dale asked.
     "Crikeys kiddo!" Monterey said, his hands feeling his bare
head, "You're right!"
     "So are Gadget's goggles." Zipper observed. 
     "And did you notice that Dale and Zipper are
wearing different shirts than they were this morning?" Gadget
added, after confirming the loss of her goggles to herself as she
felt her hair.
     "But why would she want *those* things?" Dale asked.
     "Never mind that." Monterey said, "How are we going to get
*out* of here?"
     "Don't worry Monty." Gadget said calmly, reaching into her
pocket for her glass  cutter. "I'll just *cut* our way out."
However, like Monterey's equipment and the flight cap and
goggles, Gadget found that her glass cutter and all the other
equipment she carried was similarly missing. "That is if I *had*
my
glass cutter." she said a moment later, a touch of disappointment
and dread in her voice.
     "I thought you always carried it whenever you wanted to cut
glass." Dale asked. 
     "I do." Gadget answered with a sigh, abandoning the search,
"But it's missing."
     "It's not on the bottom of the tank." Zipper reported,
flying out of the tank to inspect the water beneath his friends.
     "Dale, check your pockets." Gadget ordered him. "Do you have
anything we can use?"
     "Hey! All my stuff is gone too!" he cried out. "Every *one*
of my shirts usually has stuff in the pockets."
     "I thought so." Gadget stated, with a frown. "Ivana doesn't
want to make this easy."
     "So what do we do Gadget luv?" Monterey asked.
     Looking around the large room which was bereft of any
furniture, carpeting, or even windows, Gadget considered their
predicament as she tried to shut out the extreme cold that was
chilling her to the bone. A few ideas came and went within her
mind, unspoken to the others, until finally she looked up.
"Zipper," she said, pointing directly above her, her tone
decisive, "turn one of those florescent bulbs in its terminal so
that it shuts off, but don't turn it so much that it comes loose.
When I tell you to, turn it the rest of the way and let it fall
into the aquarium."
     "Yes Ma'am!" Zipper said, giving her a salute as he streaked
off toward the ceiling.
     "What are you doing Gadget?" Dale asked curiously, his teeth
still chattering. 
     "Getting us a bridge." Gadget replied simply, as she watched
Zipper do as she had instructed him.
     "B-b-Bonza idea, Gadget luv!" Monterey called in admiration,
as he shivered, realizing her plan as he gazed above them at the
bulb that Zipper had disconnected from its power source.   
     "Oh, *now* I get it!" Dale exclaimed excitedly.
     "Uh, Gadget luv," Monterey stated with a slightly uncertain
and worried tone a moment later, "Won't a hot bulb shatter in all
this ice water?"
     "Florescent bulbs never get really all that hot, Monty."
Gadget informed him, "since they don't use that much energy. The
time that we give it to cool down'll be fine. 
     "I just hope that it's not t-t-t-*too* long." Dale stated,
now shivering violently, the numbness in his legs now having
spread throughout them.  
 Shivering quite violently herself by this time, Gadget turned
from watching the bulb Zipper was holding to give a concerned
look of assurance over at Monterey and Zipper. "D-Don't worry
g-guys." she stated. "We'll be out of here in a minute.....or
about fifty two seconds to be exact." Paddling to one side of the
aquarium as per Gadget's directions, the three frigid Rangers
watched as Gadget instructed Zipper to let the bulb drop.
Covering their eyes from the water it splashed in their direction
upon impact, Motnerey and Dale looked to see that the bulb had
indeed survived both the fall, and drastic temperature change
from it's dip into the Arctic degree water. All that was left to
do then was for Monterey to mousehandle the elongated bulb into
postion, wedging one end of it against the bottom of the opposite
side of the aquarium, facing the wall. Fifty eight seconds later
as per Gadget's calculations, shimmying up the florescent bulb,
and using the top of it to easily jump to the lip of the
aquarium, the three Rangers were free of their icy prison. 

                *              *               *

     "Wish I had a blanket to warm us up!" Gadget stated as she
and the others shivered on the polished  wooden floor of the
room, rubbing their arms to warm up.
     "Yeah, an *electric* one!" Dale added, his teeth still
chattering.  
     "Ah, nothing like a little cold water to help one wake up
from a nap, wouldn't you say?" Ivana's voice called jeeringly
once again from the speaker.
     "V-v-very f-f-funny!" Monterey snarled at one of the cameras
which had tracked them to where they now stood. "Now quit playing
with us, and tell us why you brought us here! 
     "And where are you hiding Chip?!" Dale exclaimed in
annoyance as well.
     "Oh, but my dear Monterey," Ivana said, her voice taking on
a coy tone, "I've only just *begun* to play with you and your
friends. In fact, the *game* has just begun."
     "Game? What game?" Zipper asked, as he stood atop Monty's
shoulder, "and what about Chip?"
     "The game is this." Ivana said, ignoring Zipper and Dale's
queries as to Chip's whereabouts. "You must simply find your way
out of this building before a quarter to seven tonight. 
If you don't,...wellll...let us just say that you won't have to
worry about getting *old.* her voice seemed to sneer down at
them,
the implication of the sentence being most obvious. "I've rigged
this building with explosives, set to go off at precisely
6:45. If I were you, I'd start looking for the exit now."
     "Why are you doing this?" Gadget asked in confusion, "We
never did anything to you!.....At least, I don't think we did
since we can't see who you are."
     "I have my reasons!" Ivana growled back at Gadget, her voice
extremely menacing. "One of them," she said after a very brief
pause, her voice suddenly flippant in tone, "is that it's *fun!*"
     "She's crazy!" Dale whispered in a shocked voice to
Monterey, Gadget and Zipper.
     "I suppose you could say that," Ivana said, drawing startled
reactions from the angers as to being able to hear Dale's slight
whisper. "but aren't we all a bit crazy? So why criticize me?
After all, every one's got to have a hobby, no? Oh, and about
your friend Chip?" she paused.
     "What?!" The Rangers asked simultaneously.
     "Don't worry about him." Ivana said, her tone still light.
"In fact, I know it for certain that you won't have to worry
about him *ANY LONGER*!!" she finished, her tone once more
sinisterly cruel and biting.
     The mouths of the four Rangers hung open at this last
utterance, their eyes staring wide at the camera in shock. 
     "No!" Gadget whispered. 
     "Oh yes!" Ivana's voice sneered down at them. "But he wasn't
half as much fun as I'm sure you're going to be. So now, as you
say, we shall let the games begin! You have five hours, forty
five minutes. Toodles!" With that, static filled the speaker once
more. 
     Gadget sunk to her knees, tears filling her eyes while
beside her, Monterey stood aghast, all the color having drained
from his face. Zipper buried his head upon Monterey's neck while
Dale simply stood wide eyed staring at the camera.......
     "To.....to be snuffed out on your own birthday! Oh me little
pally!" Monterey sniffed, his voice filling with sorrow. 
     "Oh Chip!" Gadget sobbed, thinking of the last moment she
had seen him. 
     Hanging his head and wiping his hand across his eyes, Dale
let out a choking sob and buried his head into Monterey's chest.
As he did so, he simultaneously grabbed Zipper from Monterey's
shoulder, holding him in an embrace. "O-n-e." he whispered as
lightly as he could in the little fly's ear, spelling the word
out and intermingling the letters in with his sobs to cover them.
Breaking the embrace with his Dale, the littlest Ranger looked
questioningly at Dale. After the adventure when he and Dale had
pretended to be "Double O Super spies"(), he, along with the
other Rangers and Foxglove, still continued play such adventures
in the park occasionally with Tammy's sister Binky, when they
volunteered to help babysit for the little squirrel. During one
of these spy games, Dale had thought to devise the use of a
"super secret code" which he and Dale, who always made sure to be
on the same team, could use to their advantage. If the code was
kept simple enough, it was reasoned, it could be hidden in any
type of body language, giving them an edge. A tap or more on the
shoulder, a cough, almost anything could be used to
communicate, even something that wasn't connected with body
language like flashes of light. While there were at least
twenty parts to the code, "One" meant simply to "Pay attention."
Why his friend was using their private code now at such a tragic
time he wasn't sure, but the look on Dale's face said it was
important.

     Seeing that he had gotten Zipper's attention, Dale continued
his pretended sobbing, looking carefully, but discretely around
the room for any other cameras. Seeing none, he slowly turned his
back to the camera above them and sank to his knees. After
placing Zipper on the floor, he quickly doubled himself over as
if he was still crying, and began to talk to Zipper in sign
language. The team had all learned sign language some time
ago from Gadget's mute friend Mouseo{}. It had enabled them to
talk to Mouseo, who they all associated with quite often, while
they also found it to be an invaluable communication tool
whenever silence was called for on a case. This Dale knew, was
definitely one of those times. 
     "I didn't think you'd be paying attention to body language
right then." Dale signed, "which is why I just told you
directly."
     "What are you *doing*?" Zipper signed back, his face a mix
between confusion and annoyance.
     "I'll tell you in a moment, but first, I need you to take
out the camera above us. In fact, take them both out. Think you
can rip out the cables?" Dale signed to him.
     "Sure." Zipper returned, his face still confused.
     "Then do it. Oh, and make sure you look angry while you're
doing it." Dale signed. "This has to be convincing."
     Nodding, Zipper took off toward the cameras, not having to
put any effort at all into looking angry. Tearing out the main
cables that ran from the cameras into the ceiling with a
vengeance, Zipper returned to the group a few moments later as
Dale signaled for Gadget and Monterey to be quiet, and signed for
everyone to gather around. 
     "Listen everybody." he signed, "This is important. I've got
some news.........."
*****

                         Section 4 of 4

*****
     1:20.....

     The news crews were at the scene of the disaster almost as
quickly as the firefighters were, recording their footage for all
the nation to see. Nearby, Reporter Stan Blather stood behind the
police Barricade, fixing his hair while he prepared to go live
with his broadcast. 
     "This is Stan Blather," the reporter said, taking his cue
from the cameraman, "coming to you live from the city public
library at Heights and Ashbury, where a series of explosions have
rocked the building, injuring several people and setting off a
massive blaze which firefighters are still attempting to douse.
The reason for these explosions are as yet unknown, but police
sources are looking into a letter......" 
     
     Within the library which was thick with smoke from the still
raging fires, an all too familiar brown fedora lay upon the
floor, its material scorched and torn in many places as it's
owner lay nearby............


^ CDRR- Pound of the Baskervilles.
^^ CDRR- A Fly in the Ointment.
[] Binky is Tammy's little sister, seen in the episode: CDRR-
Adventures in Squirrel Sitting.
() CDRR-Double O' Chipmunk.
{} Mouseo was first seen in the CDRR episode: "The Pied Piper
Power Play."
This is an article that printed up along with this chapter to be
printed later in the apa I wrote this story for. It's not part of
the story though obviously. It's something of an editoral. I hope
you enjoy it.
                                                      


DOUBTS ABOUT DALE

     "Try to take over the world!" Whoops! Wrong channel! Ah,
there we go, much better. Greetings fellow readers, allow me to
introduce myself. I'm Michael Demcio, one of the new "regulars"
to this publication. The reason for this little extra bit to my
ongoing story, is to talk with you about an important matter.
This timely topic concerns your friend and mine, half of a very
dynamic duo, the Chipmunk we've all come to know and love called
Dale. Ever since Dale and Chip (or Chip and Dale. I don't play
favorites, I love them both equally) came back from their
extended hibernation since their last animated short, (plus
a cameo in "Mickey's Xmas Carol") and formed the Rescue Rangers,
I've eagerly watched every show since these two have been a
favorite of mine for some time. However, as the Rescue Rangers
has progressed both as a show and as a comic book, I've noticed a
disturbing trend that I've written in about many times, yet never
received any reply. 

     The trend of which I speak concerns an assault on Dale's
character. It seems that some writers seem to have a great many
doubts about Dale being a valuable member of the Rescue Rangers.
Too many times, and in too many ways, Dale has been portrayed as
an incompetent, irresponsible, immature, idiot, who seems to have
practically no self control, common sense, or for that matter,
barely any intelligence to show either. Harsh words you say?
Let's consider the facts. Right off, the degradation of Dale's
character began in the premiere two hour episode. In "To the
Rescue!" PI, Dale knew they were on an important mission when
they went to get the Ruby from Fat Cat's Casino. Detective Drake
was after all(along with Plato,), one of Dale's first heroes or
role models that we knew about. Naturally, it would only make
sense that he would want to help Drake out of the jam he was in.
What does he do though? Hits the slot machines, attracts
attention by dumping his acorns on the floor, and to top it off,
starts dancing the Samba with a very large and mean feline, who's
first thought upon seeing him was that as soon as his number was
over (why interrupt a good number after all?), was to have Dale
for a snack. Not exactly the way to handle yourself when you're
in enemy territory eh? Is this the mark of someone who's
competent? Sensible? Responsible? Intelligent? I don't think so.

     Point two. In "To the Rescue" P II, during the second
attempt to get the ruby, Dale goes surfing. When his goofing off
nearly got them killed barely a few minutes earlier, is there any
wonder why Chip got ticked off? True that Dale redeemed himself a
minute or so later by rescuing Chip from the ginsu geisha twins
with this same bit of goofing off. True also that he helped Chip
elude their common pursuers with more "goofing around" from a new
twist on "flying (namely "floating") fish", but somehow though,
Dale still had yet to learn an important lesson. The lesson? That
although you can make something as serious as crime fighting fun,
there is a time and a place for everything. In such cases, you
have got to learn some self control (a lesson Babs Bunny learned
full well). Wait until you get to the bad guys before you release
your bag of tricks. To top it off for the premiere, in "To the
Rescue" Part five, the crime of the century is occurring around
him and Dale grabs an armful of stolen gold coins to hit the
nearest gumball machine. Still no sign of self control, common
sense or intelligence here. Two more strikes against the
Dalemeister.    
     
     Now, while its bad enough that Dale had to be shown with
these traits right at the start of the series, the assault on
this poor Chipmunk's character only got worse from there.
Consider the following: In "Piratsy Under the Seas", Dale was
portrayed as being at best Naive, and at worst irresponsible.
After he and Chip went under the water in the bottle, Dale didn't
once consider that his friends on the surface might be worried
about them, to think that they should try to find a way back. All
he wanted to do was to play pirates. (Rescue Rangers? Who're
they? Nobody here but us Pirates!) Yet another example in this
episode is shown when Chip reminds him that they didn't have time
for games since "We're Rescue Rangers. We've got jobs to do.", to
which Dale's only response is "You're just jealous cause you
don't have a hat.", and continues to go play "Treasure Hunt". His
intelligence didn't fair too well either in this episode, for who
could forget the moment when Dale is standing in front of a
loaded cannon with his ears closed, waiting for it to go off.
Wouldn't want our ears to get hurt from the noise now would we?
Forget the fact that every bone in your body is about to be
broken (not that he would be alive to realize it though), but
I'll touch more on Dale's intelligence in a moment. 

     In "Last Train to Cashville", Dale was also portrayed as
being irresponsible when he stayed up all night watching T.V.
when he knew they were to go case hunting the next day. True he
did pick up an idea from the T.V. to save his friends later on,
but they wouldn't have needed saving later on if he was awake at
the construction site or at the Pet shop to begin with. The
pinnacle of Dale's being portrayed as irresponsible however, is
ultimately and without a doubt, "Le Purrfect Crime". Here Dale
abandoned his friends during a time when they needed teamwork to
press their advantage against Maltese de Sade and crew, for the
selfish act of getting a snack, thus opening the Rangers up for a
counterstrike. For a Chipmunk who's known and demonstrated the
value of teamwork for 50 years with his best friend and partner,
showing him in such a selfish light is going way out of bounds.
As well as showing him as selfish, and irresponsible, this act in
Le Purrfect Crime also showed Dale as again, having no self
control, as well as showing him to be unintelligent. A snack
break in the middle of a battle? Come on!

     From Le Purrfect Crime, further examples followed, showing
as it did in the Premiere how in addition to being irresponsible,
Dale's intelligence was sorely lacking. In "Short Order Crooks",
Dale attempted to fill in a very deep hole caused from a dynamite
explosion, by using a teaspoon. Common sense? Intelligence?
Sorry. In "Puffed Rangers", Gadget had to keep spelling out for
Dale that he was about to get eaten, when anyone with half a
brain could have figured it out. "Think Dale!" Gadget had told
him many times. The real problem here was, I don't think that
many of the writers either wanted or allowed him to think, or
were biased into thinking that he couldn't think. Don't you think
(I'm starting to sound like Gadget here.)? I'll touch more on
this subject in a moment. Next with "Pie in the Sky" after the
Rangers crash landed in the flour, Dale was portrayed as being
naive or just plain stupid enough to think that he and the others
were ghosts. True that Dale has a tendency to jump to conclusions
sometimes (don't we all sometime or other?), perhaps a bit more
than the other Rangers but at a time like this, I think that
even though Dale doesn't use deductive logic that often, common
logic should at least be obvious. When you're standing on a
mountain of flour sacks, covered in flour, with flour falling off
your body all around you as well as hanging in the air, how can
you draw the conclusion that you're a ghost and retain any
credibility? Our perception of Dale's being responsible also
suffers yet again when he stops to make faces in a pie tin when
he knows that Midge might be in danger. "I know how to be a
Rescue Ranger!" he told Chip. With examples like these, I sorely
doubt it. 

     From here we turn to "When Mice were Men", where Dale sees
fit to tackle a two ton plus bull with the disposition of "The
Steerinator" all by himself, and expects to come out the victor.
Headstrong? Perhaps a bit. Unintelligent with no common sense to
the point of being considered a complete idiot? Definitely. Chip
has often asked Dale time and time again "Are you crazy?".
However I must say here that with this very evident example in
mind, it is not Dale's sanity that should be called into
question. At any point, it is the intelligence which some writers
are portraying him as having. Not even a person with mental
problems would have considered such an action as Dale took
(Unless he was really off his rocker and saw such the bull as the
size of say, Zipper). As the old and timely expression still
rings true today, "I may be crazy, but I'm not *stupid!*" A
further (though less drastic) example of this is shown in "When
you fish upon a star". Here, Dale threatens an irate lobster with
piece of hard butterscotch candy. Although he didn't try taking
this overpowering enemy on with his bare hands the way he did
with El Emenopio, his lack of common sense kept him from
realizing that using such a missile would have no more effect on
the lobster than hurling a rock at a Sherman Tank. The lobster
wouldn't have felt a thing.

     Now we come to what I consider to be the harshest example of
Dale's being portrayed as moronic: "The Pied Piper Power Play".
In this episode, Dale doesn't even seem to have enough brain
cells to put one plus one together. He can't recognize Monterey
Jack's lucky toothpick when he saw it just a few hours ago, on
top of the fact that he knows its Monty that they're looking for
and that Monty brought the toothpick there. He can't associate
the initials "M.J." on the stick with anyone other than "Moonwalk
Jackson", or of all things Fat Cat, and to top it off, when Chip
leads Dale and Gadget to the tire tracks where the mouse prints
end, Dale can only conclude that "the mice became truck drivers."
The fact that he manages to hypnotize himself is just rancid
icing on a very stale cake. Bare with me though, there is light
against this dim view which Dale has been shown in. 
     
     In "Shell Shocked", Dale's intelligence is once again shown
to be depleted, as is a few other aspects of him. When Dale leads
the Rangers to a "Shell" gas station to find the hermit crabs'
missing shells, I thought Dale had gotten hit in the head with
the Frisbee a few times. Doing something this dumb would be like
my going to a decending staircase marked "Subway", and wondering
where the hero sandwiches were when I got to the bottom. (For
those of you that don't have them, "Subway" is also a sandwich
chain.) I think we all agree that Dale is not a detective like
Chip, or a rocket scientist like Gadget, but this is because of
lack of desire, not lack of intelligence. As I hope you know, and
I will show in a moment,  Dale is capable of, and has the
intelligence to do pretty much anything he wants to do, all he
has to do is want to do it. But allow me to complete my hall of
shame first. In this episode, Dale is also portrayed in two more
unfavorable lights as well as being shown as dumb. After his
first hunch falls through, at a suggestion of doing some research
from Gadget, he leads the others to a comic book tore where he
believes all he answers are contained. Has Dale regressed into a
second childhood? I fear so, for his maturity level has certainly
dropped. Only a five year old or less (what this is in Chipmunk
years I'm not sure) would be so immature as to think that the
answer to a complex problem as the missing shells lies within the
pages of "Kablammo Man" or any other comic, with a possible
exception being made for those written by Carl Barks. A final new
erroneous insult against Dale occurs when he and the Rangers are
underwater inside the boot and Dale finally cracks under the
pressure, yelling "I'm no leader!". Although some of you may
indeed think this statement of Dale's leadership ability to be
true, there is evidence I will present in a moment that proves
otherwise.

     Now while there are still many other examples in both the
television series and the comics (which I know haven't touched
on) that show these very negative portrayals of Dale such as
"It's a bird, it's insane, it's Dale" (immaturity), "S.S.
Drainpipe" (unbalanced to insane with an overactive imagination),
"Love is a many splintered thing." (unintelligent), "Crazy Crocs
and the Catastrophe Cookhouse" (unintelligent and an overactive
imagination) "Guinea pigs" (no common sense) and others, and
while the comics have certainly been kinder to Dale than the
show, the point is this. All the Rangers have faults. Every one
does. That's one of the many reasons they're real. Gadget is
somewhat absent minded and sometimes thinks up too many
solutions, Chip is impatient at times and has a bit of a temper,
Monterey rushes in without thinking and has cheese attacks, and
Zipper is..... hmmm....well....,aside from being a little
insecure about his size, whatever faults Zipper may have, he
hides them well. Dale though is a different story. His supposed
faults stand out like a sore thumb. Whereas the other Rangers
have two to tops three faults to their names, Dale has been laden
with scores of them. 

     Okay. So now that we've seen how some writers have managed
to tarnish Dale's image and personality, lets look now at how
other writers have succeeded in making him shine. In many
episodes and comics, such as the following, Dale has been
shown to be extremely competent, intelligent, ingenious,
responsible, and mature, showing every negative trait
about him to be false. And these are not just lucky, fleeting
moments either as I'm sure you'll agree. In "Out to Launch", Dale
demonstrates powers of observation and intelligence when he's
able to figure out some of the simulation controls that Chip
couldn't, as well as later helping Chip bring the space plane
back into the atmosphere for real. In "Double O' Chipmunk", Dale
exhibits exceptional ingenuity in being able to track the enemy
spy agents down to their hideout, subduing them (both before and
after he realizes it wasn't a game), and finally defeating them
using the stealth tank. In "Catteries not included," Dale again
demonstrates ingenuity and intelligence by coming up with the
idea to use a decoy cat to lure the feline's mysterious assailant
into the open. 

     In "Good Times, Bat Times", Dale proves responsible enough
to not get sidetracked from the battle happening between the
Rangers (who unofficially include Foxglove at this point) and
Winnifred and her crew. He is even able to save the Rangers and
finish the battle with Foxy's help. In "Robocat", Dale again
proves to be very responsible when he helps "Tom" to save the son
of Spike's master from falling in the sewer currents. From
here, we go to "Prehysterical Pet" where Dale again proves his
worth by first saving "Steggy" from the security guards and then
saving the Rangers from the scientists with his competent
directions. With "A case of Stage Blight.", this Chipmunk gives
one of his best performances in his role as a swashbuckling
musketeer, where he proves capable enough to delay Sewernose
until Gadget, Monty and Zipper got the trap set up, and almost
succeeds in forcing him into the fountain. All in all, a far cry
from examples like "Le Purrfect Crime" where he at first seems
almost incapable of teamwork. Three other noteworthy mentions as
far as Dale's ingenuity and intelligence is concerned include
"Short Order Crooks" where he thinks to use the meat grinder to
grate up the cheese, "S.S. Drainpipe" where his actions in
bringing the toy ship crashing home are what ultimately saves him
and the others, and "Raining Cats and Dogs" where he almost
single handedly brings Nimnul and Normie's plans crashing down,
and thinks so far as to save the Rangerplane as well.  
  
     However, there are two episodes concerning Dale which I
really must draw some attention to since they serve to prove
something which I have always considered to be true. This is the
fact that contrary to some of his actions and his own declaration
in "Shell Shocked", Dale does indeed have leadership
capabilities, and quite capable ones at that. The two episodes
which prove this point are "The Last Leprechaun", and "Song of
the Night n' Dale." These two episodes not only are hallmarks for
Dale's leadership and ingenuity, but for his intelligence as
well. In "The Last Leprechaun", Dale successfully leads the
Leprechauns out of their prison and against the Banshee by using
the most important tool he has: his head. Calling upon science
and not science fiction, Dale uses a seemingly harmless material
(gold) as a weapon to turn the banshee's own all powerful weapon
against her. In "Song of the Night n' Dale", Dale's ability in
leading the Rangers to set a trap for the Emperor's traitorous
sister, (again turning an enemy's own weapon against her,) was a
plan worthy of the best one either Gadget or Chip could have ever
come up with. As Chip himself said, "Great plan Dale!" With
intelligence being an important part of leadership, these
examples clearly show that Dale has what it takes. No way could
he possibly be the ding dong who couldn't even recognize
Monterey's initials on his toothpick. However, as far as Dale's
leadership, I would consider one thing. Getting back to the boot
scene in "Shell Shocked", while Dale might be a good leader,
perhaps he cannot handle high pressure, stressful situations
where split second decisions must be made which is why he cracked
in that scene. This is something I'd like to put to the test in
my story.  

     Having thus finished demonstrating that Dale is a very
competent, intelligent, responsible, and most of the time
sensible and mature (if at times a bit lazy and sloppy as well,)
member of the Rescue Rangers, I have but one more item to add to
this lengthy argument, namely a question. This question being in
particular, why exactly did some of the show's and comic's
writers feel it necessary to make Dale into a Rescue Ranger with
all "The wrong stuff"? The only ugly answer I can come up with is
that these writers were attempting to make Dale into a fool for
the purposes of comedy relief. Even Monty said it himself in "Le
Purrfect Crime" with the line: "We try to think of you as comedy
relief but...." However, within that very last word of Monterey
Jack's lies the flaw of those writer's thinking. With the
exception of "To the Rescue!" PI, where Dale dances the Samba,
all other attempts to use Dale for comedy relief fell flat on its
face, making Dale look like an idiot and attaining barely any if
no humor at all. These writers didn't seem to realize that when
dealing with real characters such as these, comedy should be done
and can be done  without making anyone the buffoon. How? Among
other things, inside jokes, sly pranks, wry humor, and perhaps a
touch of physical humor every now and again. All of the Disney
Afternoon shows have demonstrated a remarkable talent for these
qualities which is one of the reasons why I watch them. However,
when Disney writers attempt to make fools out of their
characters, it just becomes plain and dull ordinary slapstick, no
better than the "Goof Troop." Another evident example of this is
in Launchpad McQuack (who's problems in portrayal parallel Dale's
almost to a T.), who started off as a simple but on the ball
globetrotting pilot in "Valley of the Golden Suns", to be later
downcast into stories like "The Right Duck" where Doofus and even
a chimp were smarter than him. Launchpad has since regained a lot
of his credibility since joining Darkwing Duck, but still
sometimes appears unintelligent, always waiting for D.W. to come
up with a plan of action when with the McDuck nephews, he was
almost always the one with the plan. Any comments Kim McFarland?

        Finally, in trying to wrap up this little insight into
this most oft abused Ranger, I can only hope that those who
continue to pen the coming adventures of the Rescue Rangers in
this and future issues, will take what I've said about Dale to
heart (if they hadn't realized it already) in helping to clear up
the injustices given to him in the comics and the T.V. series.
Dale is funloving, but that should not make him irresponsible.
Dale does have an active imagination but that doesn't mean he
should be made out to be immature or insane. Finally, no one
wants to look stupid in front of their friends. So while it has
been said that Dale does not choose to use common sense or reason
at times, I can only say this to be false. Why? Namely that
common sense and reason is what gets us alive through every day,
not to mention a regular harrowing day such as the Rescue Rangers
normally face. Without common sense and reason, even with all his
friends around looking out for him, I fear Dale would have
perished some time ago. Dale may not want to exercise his "mental
faculties" every minute of the day as would Gadget or Chip to
solve complex problems, but this is far from common sense or even
regular normal intelligence, and in no way does it means that he
should be made out to be moronic. Scenes like the one in "Pied
Piper Power Play" should never have happened and I hope will
never happen again. I'm not suggesting that Dale be made into a
second or twin Chip. All I'm saying is that while Dale is
responsible and a good leader with good ideas when need be (as
I will be attempting to show in my story), there is most
certainly a way to achieve a splendid, intelligent balance
between that and Dale's funny, funloving nature that we all love
and enjoy, a balance that I'm sure once struck on, all readers of
our stories will appreciate. Let's leave the slapstick to Warner
Bros. and the Three Stooges, not to these real characters we've
come to know as friends.    

     On a last note that I think Dale would certainly appreciate,
I would like to propose what I believe to be Dale's as yet
unknown, and unofficial motto. I believe he has a motto, since
the competent, yet very flamboyant style I believe he has and has
been demonstrated with, seems to bear a striking similarity to
another well known character here who came after him, yet has
successfully achieved a near excellent balance between the
swashbuckling, devil-may care, funloving side of him, and the
responsible, intelligent, logical, mature side of him. A balance
that I've suggested that Dale should have, and as this character
has shown, is certainly achievable. This character is Darkwing
Duck, who as we most certainly know, is serious about fighting
crime, and seems to have fun while doing it. So while Darkwing
Duck's credo is "Look good while doing good." I believe Dale's
most probably is and has always been, "Have a good time, while
fighting crime."

     On a more personal note, I would just like to end this essay
with a point  concerning my story. In the second part of my story
"Rhyme & Reason"-"Pawns", some or all of you may have noticed a
bit of a similarity between the use of a "Death Card" (Tarrot
Style) in the first part of Meghan Brunner's story "Final
Curtain"- "Where for art thou Romeo?", and my use of a "Death
Card" (playing card style) here. I just thought it interesting to
point out that the idea for a "Death Card" in my story was not
taken as an idea after reading Meghan's story. I had had the idea
for a death card in that scene before ever reading Meghan's
story, when I first began to outline the story in my head many
months ago. Though different styles, I guess some minds just
think alike, eh? Well, that's it for now, I look forward to your
comments on the first part of my story, "Rhyme & Reason"-"Opening
Moves". Yeah, I know that "Opening Moves" wasn't included in the
title to "Rhyme & Reason" part one. In the rush of re-editing it
and getting it out to Jeff, I forgot to subtitle it. Anyway,
thanks for reading, may your printers never run out of ink,
and know that when it comes to Dale, I have "no doubts" about his
abilities or his being a valued member of the Rescue Rangers. 
                                           Make Mine Mysteries, 

                                             Michael Demcio.