Allowance
It was a mild winter day in St. Canard. All the citizens of the city were grateful for the respite from the constant bombardment of snow, ice and below zero temperatures. It had barely gotten above freezing, but it felt like a heat wave to every person who was out and about in the elements. A certain water dog, who detested traveling about in the freezing pipelines around St. Canard in the wintertime, was no exception to the good cheer about the rise in temperature. He still hadn't forgotten about what had happened last winter when he had nearly frozen over in a particularly cold pipe and had almost gotten himself stuck. As it was, he had only managed to move sluggishly through the remaining distance and plop down on the ground outside the pipes as a dense pile of slush. The normally liquid canine had trouble reforming himself properly in that state and thus had to lie still on the ground for an interminable amount of time waiting to thaw. It had been incredibly dull, uncomfortable and abundant waste of his time—and if there was one thing the ever efficient Liquidator hated, it was wasting his time.
That was why the ex-salesman was feeling quite irritated as he lay still in a small puddle by a heated grate on the sidewalk. He had been there for a half hour waiting for two truck drivers to unload their shipment into the bank. This bank was supposed to have received a large transfer of money from another bank that was shutting down due to over expansion a few weeks earlier, but the bad weather had prevented that from happening. Seeing as this might be the only chance they got for a long time to move the funds, the bank had hired two men to haul the load over to its destination.
Liquidator had learned of this arrangement when it was first put together and had been waiting at the bank as soon as he found out that the money was being moved that day. Once the truck had rolled up, the greedy canine had expected the men to get right to it and start putting the money in the vault. To his dismay, the two duck males, one tall and skinny, the other one short with a pot belly, had decided to take a lunch break. The two ate as slowly as they could, laughing at how they were paid by the hour.
If I were in charge of this establishment, I would demand my money back. He thought in disgust as he watched red juice from a BLT sandwich dribble down the chin of the larger duck. Of course, not all business people are as scrupulous or have the high standards that the Liquidator possesses. It is what has put me ahead of the competition for years, along with some back room deals. Or perhaps the better term in this case is back vault deals.
His devious musings allowed him to bide the time and stretch out his thinning patience until the men had finally finished eating and decided to do the job they were being paid to do. They opened the back of the truck, slowly placed some of the load into two wheel barrows and rolled them both inside the bank via the handicap ramp.
Liquidator reformed himself and blinked at the utter stupidity of this move. The two of them had left the back of their truck opened and unguarded with half of their bags of cash stuffed in the back of it, completely visible to all of St. Canard. He had thought he would at least have to sneak into the bank and take some bags from the open vault while they were loading it, but this turn of events changed matters entirely. Shrugging off his initial shock and grinning at his luck, he summoned some water up from a nearby manhole to assist him in the attainment of his funds.
If this were a buy, sell or hold option, this brilliant salesman would be shouting buy, buy, buy! After all, the Liquidator would not be the financial success that he was if he didn't act immediately on limited time, no make that once in a lifetime, offers.
A large, elongated water arm pushed its way out of the manhole and over to the truck. The giant, wet hand, closed over most of the bags of money and lifted them with ease. It then slithered back down the uncovered manhole and disappeared into the darkness below. The wet dog jumped into the open truck to grab the remaining few himself, happy to do some of the grunt work in increasing his ever widening profit margins. He sloshed casually over to the open manhole, his arms full of bags of money and jumped down into the sewer system.
He landed with a splat that took out half the length of his legs. The ex-salesman quickly reformed them and stretched his watery arm back up to grab the manhole cover and pull it back over the opening. With that done, he dropped the rest of the bags into the water where the rest of the pile had been deposited by his disembodied helper. Summoning it to him again through his powers, he directed it to carry all the bags to his secret lair in the sewers. The hand grew to an even larger size to fulfill his command and scooped up the bags of cash. Liquidator got into the water to lead it to its destination and swiftly set off towards his hideout.
It didn't take long for the two water based beings to get the money to his lair as he had lived down in the sewers long enough to have all the various twists and turns memorized. Once they had arrived, he ordered the giant hand to set down his earnings and dismissed his helper with a short thank you. The hand gave him a small bow before dissolving back into a lifeless puddle.
Greedily, the ex-salesman tore open the bags to get an exact calculation of his profit margins for the day. The aqua dog was happy to see that he had managed to make far more than he had bargained for since one of the money bags contained a large number of gold coins. He lifted two handfuls of the coins up and threw them lightly into the air in exuberance. The sound of coins clanking back down and echoing off the dark walls gave him a deep joy that very few other things in his life could.
Getting back to work, he divided his money into piles by amount so that it would be easier for him to keep his financial records straight. When he had sorted through the money, except for a last set of twenties which he was holding in his hand, he smiled in an almost amorous fashion as he looked at the piles of cold hard cash.
Ah, nothing better than reaping the rewards of a dishonest days work. He thought to himself smugly as he ran his finger down the edge of the bills, creating a ruffling noise. Now, I have nothing more to do today than properly store my earnings and plan where my next investment will be.
Whistling to himself in pure glee, he was about to file the stack of twenties away with the others, but stopped abruptly when he noticed a plain white envelope laying to the side of his small bathtub. His ears drooped at the sight of it, guilt growing inside of him at what had nearly slipped his mind.
I very nearly forgot a very important arrangement. Perhaps I should consider getting another planner for my sewer hideout to maintain my efficiency. He shook his head as he scoured his hide away for a pair of rubber gloves. The water canine found them lying inside the bathtub which he normally used to sleep in and put them on without delay. I will consider my planning options later. For now, the Liquidator needs to attend to the matter at hand to maintain his schedule.
The ex-salesman placed some of his money into the white envelope and carefully wet it to use the adhesive. He sealed it up and got back into the water that was running by his hideout. He adjusted the speed of the current and easily glided off down the tunnels. It only took fifteen minutes to get where he wanted to go and he gracefully exited the water he had been riding, allowing it to return to its normal speed.
Cautiously, he climbed up the ladder, pushed the manhole cover up and peered out. His hollow blue eyes scanned the perimeter and saw that no one was around to see him. Relieved that he wouldn't be delayed on his errand, the aqua dog slid up to the surface and made his way to a brown painted two story house with a black shingled roof and a white wooden fence surrounding it just a block away from the manhole.
Coming up to a small window on the right side of the house, he looked inside and found it empty. Grinning at his string of good luck, he opened the window a crack, slid the envelope in, then dissolved into a puddle and entered the room himself. Reforming himself after he dripped onto the floor, the ex-salesman picked up the envelope and placed it next to an open history book.
The liquid canine knew that he shouldn't linger long lest he get caught, but he couldn't help doing a quick sweep of the room. The walls were still a blue color, which was still the favorite color of the occupant as far as he knew, but it was plastered with baseball posters and sports pendants. Several professional teams from all over the league were present, but there were far more posters for the Angels than any other team. The pendant right above the desk he had placed the envelope on had the logo from the recent winter Olympics on it, which the occupant of the room had probably been thrilled to attend.
The watery dog also noticed a few new additions to the wall that looked like video game posters. One of them had a golden haired dog in a green tunic get-up brandishing a sword with a blue hilt. Another showed some tall being dressed up in a green armored suit. The final one was a small picture of none other than Whiffle Boy. Liquidator smirked at this, thinking how a certain jester would react if he saw this poster.
The ex-salesman's eyes moved to the desk where there were several pieces of hardware sitting on top of it. They were trophies and medals from the different sports teams the occupant of the room had participated in over the years. The collection seemed to have gotten a bit bigger since the last time he had been there with a medal or two he didn't recognize. There wasn't much else to see in the small room, except for piles of boxes lined up against the wall by the dresser. It seemed that the long process of moving was well underway in this particular household.
Lost in thought, feeling content that things hadn't seemed to have changed much since his last visit, he jumped a little as he heard someone coming down the stairs. He hastily dissolved into a puddle and slid back out the window. The water dog had just enough time to shut the window again before someone stepped into the room. He slid to the edge of the window to avoid being seen, but he stayed where he was momentarily to take a look at the boy who was now staring about his room in an unhappy manner.
The boy was a lanky canine male with brown fur who seemed tall for his age of eleven. He sported thick, dark black hair that fell to either side of his face, which was offset nicely by a pair of small, beady blue eyes. His ears were long enough to almost hit his shoulders, his black nose was a bit on the large side and his mouth was often set in a wide, pleasing smile. At the moment, he was wearing a baseball shirt and pair of blue jeans that settled nicely over a pair of gray running shoes that looked as though they had seen better days.
His ears raised a little bit in surprise as he noticed the white envelope on his desk. Walking over to it, he opened it and his eyes widened in shock at the money before him. As he leafed through it, that shock vanished and was replaced by unconcealed glee. A big, happy smile appeared on the young canine's face, giving him a momentary bit of respite from his anxieties about moving. A sharp female voice calling down to him snapped him out of his revelry and he put the money back into the envelope, placing it in the top drawer of his desk. He then turned to one of the big open boxes, grabbed a few miscellaneous items and hustled out of his room to go back upstairs.
The Liquidator had watched the entire scene play out with the boy and the envelope, lingering longer than he should have afterwords in the hopes of seeing him again. He waited a few minutes more before turning away, feeling that all the trouble he had gone through to get the envelope here had been worth it just to see that big smile. He wasn't always so lucky. Most of the time when he dropped by, no one was at the house. It made the sneaking in part easier, but Liquidator would always be willing to trade that convenience for seeing the boy again.
There are very few things in this life that give me joy that aren't material, he mused happily, but one of them is definitely Teddy Flood. That's a one hundred percent, no money back guarantee.
He sloshed his way to the front of the house and stopped again as he saw the boy in the window on the second story of the house. He was listening to a skinny, wavy blond-haired canine woman with blue eyes that matched his own. Her fur was a light brown, almost golden in color and she was wearing a light blue work jacket over a matching light blue skirt that ended just above the knee. Her hair was shorter than it had been when he had last seen her, just barely touching her shoulder blades. She was bestowing upon his son a look of aggravation that he had seen almost every day before he had finally moved out. She wasn't the best at multitasking, so he figured it was more that she was feeling frazzled about the move than about really being angry at the boy.
His mother was actually one of the reasons he was there. She had never been all that astute when it came to things like money matters either, which led her to easily forget about things like allowances. The former salesman Bud Flood, however, never forgot about such things and came to the house every third Friday of the month. It had been the arrangement he had made with his son when he was still solid and he wasn't about to break it.
It's a deal between us that won't change even with the change of address. Liquidator advertised to himself as he watched his son moving about the room upstairs. I know Teddy's probably not happy about moving away from all his contacts here, but I'm not worried. He is my son, after all, and the Floods are never want for company...well, except maybe my cousin Morty, but as family psychiatrists will endorse there's an oddball in every family.
With a tiny pang of regret, he tore his eyes away from the upstairs window, checked to that the coast was clear and slid his way over to the manhole. He opened it a crack, dropped his gloves down below, then dissolved into a puddle. As he easily dripped his way down into the sewers below, he reminded himself that it would not be long before he saw his son again.
Author's Note: I know this story was probably a bit unexpected, but the idea just popped into my head and I decided to bring it to fruition. Just so you know, it doesn't have any relation to my other stories. The idea came to me because I've always felt that out of the other Fearsome Five members Liquidator/Bud Flood would have been the most likely to have a family before his mutation.
I usually imagine him having a son who takes after him in terms of liking business, money and generally being ambitious. He wants to be the top dog like his father, but at this point he's not at his father's level where he'll do anything, no matter how immoral, to win. I chose the name 'Teddy' simply because I wanted a name with two 'd' in it like Buddy. 'Teddy' is a short version of Theodore and the meaning of it, according to the various name meaning sites I went to, is 'divine gift.' Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this short little story.