Timber Maniacs

[02.08.01] » by Aaron D. Roberts

Hey, all you Timber Maniacs! You're never gonna believe what happened to me this time. It all started with a job that Kiros, Ward, and me took in Balamb. We went to see one of the wealthiest men in town! This is how it went:

The butler showed us into the antechamber. A thin, middle-aged man sitting behind a desk looked up as we came in. He stood, and I introduced myself.

"Good afternoon, sir. My name is Laguna Loire, and these are my associates, Ward Sabac and Kiros Seagull." Kiros and Ward nodded as I said their names.

"Alastair MacDougall," he said as he shook each of our hands. "Have a seat, gentlemen."

Ward, Kiros, and me sat down in the ornately-cushioned chairs he had indicated as MacDougall returned to his desk. He began: "The reason I asked for your services, gentlemen, is because of my daughter, Lauren. I have reason to believe that she is involved in activities which are...odd, to say the least. I want you to find out what she is up to, no matter how long it takes, so I can put a stop to it. What do you think?"

A run-of-the-mill tailing job. Should be no problem. Not to sound blase, but I did star in a detective movie once. "We'll do it, Mr. McDougall. It'll be twelve thousand Gil a week, plus expenses."

"That's absurd!" he shouted, leaning over the desk.

"If you check it out sir, it's the cheapest price in Balamb for private investigators," Kiros noted.

"That's because you're the only ones in town!"

"Good point," I allowed. "So, what do you say?"

"Urghh! Very well." He shifted uneasily in his seat. I wondered what he was so uptight about. He was the richest guy in town, so twelve thousand Gil a week should've seemed like nothing to him. Guess being rich doesn't keep you from being a tightwad.

"We'll need a few details first, if you don't mind," Kiros explained. "Starting with a telephone number we can reach you at whenever we need to contact you."

"Also," I said, "we'd like to know what information makes you suspect illicit activity on the part of your daughter."

MacDougall looked at Ward. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Ward doesn't talk," I told him. Ward nodded. "His throat got slit during the war. Don't know how he survived the blood loss, but he's a tough guy."

Hold on a second. Maybe you're wondering how I, Laguna Loire, star of stage and screen, heroic veteran of the Esthar War, came to become a private investigator? (as I write this, Kiros brings to my attention that all I actually did during the war was get us lost and nearly get him and Ward killed, but we know the truth, don't we? Refer to my earlier article, "How I Single-Handedly Brought Down an Esthar Stronghold and Brought Victory within Galbadia's Grasp," for details.)

Oh, yeah, the P.I. thing.

It all started about five months ago. I had just finished starring in a Hans Delmer production, "Twelve Miles Over Deling,"---it's one of those action pictures, you know, with yours truly as the hero, natch. It's about this evil group of terrorists who try to take over a commercial airplane and hold all of the passengers and crew hostage and, of course, I have to stop them using whatever means possible. It should be coming out next summer to theaters everywhere, so be sure to go see it! (Editor's note: Timber Maniacs does not necessarily endorse the motion picture "Twelve Miles Over Deling". The views expressed in the preceding paragraph are those of the author and do not reflect the opinions of Timber Maniacs.)

You can see Kiros and Ward in it, too. Ward's the flight attendant who, well, dies in the first twenty minutes (he doesn't have any lines, but he can't talk anyway so it's okay) and Kiros is the co-pilot of the plane and he eventually dies too, though he does get some talking in. Actually, now that I think about it, almost everyone dies except me and---well, I don't want to ruin the movie for you.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. Okay, after we finally got done shooting that---and by the way, filming a movie is a long, tedious process and you would never believe the amount of work that goes into it---we seemed to be out of work yet again. My on-again, off-again movie star job seemed to be off again, and being a part-time journalist is a blast, but it doesn't always pay that well. So, Kiros, Ward, and me set off to find work.

The final scenes of the movie had been shot near the town of Balamb, so that's where we set out to find work until I could land another acting gig. Balamb's a fishing community, so we thought maybe we could land a cushy job sitting around fishing all day.

We were wrong. I didn't realize this, but the type of fishing the goes on commercially is nothing like what I considered "fishing." It actually involves hauling up nets from a boat and listening to your boss holler at you about how badly you're doing it. Ward was pretty well-suited for the hauling part, but Kiros and I aren't quite as massively built. Plus, none of us really appreciated the being-yelled-at part of the job. You'd think that being in the military would've prepared us for it. Nope. Needless to say, we quit after a couple of weeks.

This presented us with a problem. We were boarding on the top floor of a house which belonged to a nice young married couple, the Dinchts, and while none of us would complain about the accomodations, we wouldn't have the money to stay there too much longer. Fortunately, Kiros had an idea on how we could use our unusual talents to good use.

"Private investigators," he said one night after supper.

"What?" I asked.

"We could become P.I.'s," he repeated. "You know, detectives, gumshoes, private dicks---"

Ward interrupted with a string of hand signals.

Kiros looked at me. "What'd he say?"

Now, most people don't know this, but I'm halfway fluent in sign language. I took a couple of classes in high school, but, to be honest, it was mostly because of the female-to-male ratio in the classrooms. However, when Ward lost his voice for keeps, I brushed up and helped him learn it so we could communicate with one another.

"He asked how much business private detectives would get in a town like this," I told Kiros.

"Tell him we don't have any competition that I know of, so we should get lots," Kiros said.

I began to sign what Kiros had said, but Ward cut me off with his own gestures.

"What was that?"

"Ward says, 'You don't have to sign to me, idiot. I can still hear.'" I laughed.

Kiros looked furious. "You shouldn't laugh. Laguna. You forgot, too." After that, Kiros was all pouty for the rest of the night.

Anyway, for the next few days we did some research and found that we would, indeed, be the only private investigators in Balamb if we founded a business. Kiros went to City Hall to apply for the license, while Ward and I set up a makeshift office in our upstairs apartment. We also put a few ads in the Balamb Fishnet, the local newspaper. They read, "Loire, Seagull, & Sabac: Private Investigators," and under that it read, "Balamb's Number 1 Private Dicks."

Surprisingly, or, rather, surprisingly to Kiros and myself, but not to Ward, we got no business for the first two weeks. Our funds were starting to run out, what little we had left from the movie and our subsequent "job" was spent on the advertising, the license, and the rent, which, while meager, was a constant expense. We eventually got a few calls, but most were of an obscene nature---they had obviously read our ad wrong. One call might have been legitimate, but Ward had to answer it, since he was the only one of us around, and he, of course, couldn't talk, so when he tried burping his words into the phone the other party hung up, disgusted.

Finally, when we were just about ready to give up and get real jobs, we got the call. Actually, Kiros had already applied at the local McSushi Hut as a rice-boiler, but he scrapped it after I told him about this one.

Which brings me back to the beginning. The beginning of this story, that is.

MacDougall had told us that his daughter hung around a bar called "The Salty Sailor," in the uptown district of Balamb. Ward thought it was weird that a bar with that name would be located so far away from the port, but that didn't really matter to us. All we had to do was go there and see if the dame showed up (I'm really getting good at that detective talk, huh?).

We showed up at about noon. The pub looked a lot more flashy than we had expected from the name. Polished wooden tables with shiny brass knobs were the norm, along with fanciful-looking sailor suits and anchors along the olive-green walls. While Kiros and Ward took a seat, I ordered us some booze. The bartender looked at me funny, but I let it slide. After all, we were strangers here.

A few drinks later, I was feeling the effects of alcohol most acutely. The jukebox was playing some funky music that sounded like a mix betweeen country and new age, and I was telling Ward this story about how I scored with this one girl in Timber (this had been before I met Raine, of course). Kiros leaned over and whispered something in my ear. Due either to the loudness of the music or my somewhat drunken state, I didn't quite hear him.

"WHAT?" I shouted.

"Nothing," he replied. "Never mind."

A few minutes later, he got my attention, and whispered again. "Laguna, this is a gay bar."

Trying not to say anything, I knew my eyes had widened to at least double their normal size. Suddenly the fact that there were no women whatsoever in this bar hit my brain. I listened a bit to the music, and then I took my three-quarters full beer, tilted it back, and drained the contents as fast as I possibly could.

"Ahhh," I said, slamming the pint glass down on the table. "Well, guys, back to work, eh?" With that, I got up and made a beeline for the door, not really caring if Kiros and Ward followed me or not.

I walked a couple of blocks down the street before stopping to wait for the others. When he caught up, Ward signed to me, asking me what the hell was going on.

"That was a gay bar," I explained. Ward doubled over in silent laughter.

"Geez, Laguna, you didn't have to go nuts," Kiros admonished me.

"They could tell we didn't....belong, couldn't they?" Ward laughed even more.

"If MacDougall's worried about his daughter sleeping around, I don't think that's a problem," Kiros said.

Ward snapped his fingers to get our attention. "What's up?" I asked. He shushed me and pointed.

There, walking into the Salty Sailor, was Lauren MacDougall. She was pretty tall, with a slender figure, which can be nice if you like that type. I do. Her wavy blond hair cascaded down her shoulders, bouncing as she walked toward the pub. I racked my powerful brain to figure out what she might be doing. "There must be something about that bar that we didn't see out in the front," I rationalized. "Let's follow her."

"Not so fast," said a deep voice.

Two guys were blocking our exit from the alley, probably with violence on their minds. The one who had talked was huge, not so big as Ward, but huge enough for me. The smaller one had thining brown hair, and looked extraordinarily nervous. They were both dressed fairly well, though neither sported the fancy suits that the gay urban professionals in the bar favored.

"I don't know what you want," said the smaller one. "But you'd better leave us alone, or else we'll..."

"You'll what?" dared Kiros.

As if to demonstrate, the little guy rushed my dark-skinned friend. Kiros dodged to the side and rapped him on the skull. At this point in the narrative, I should probably tell you that we didn't have our weapons on us at this time. You usually don't need to pack heat when you go to a bar, especially not in a town like Balamb. I noticed those SeeD guys who lived nearby did, in fact, always go around armed, but my friends and I didn't really see a need for it.

We'd had a run-in with a couple of SeeDs before, these three guys who were making fun of Ward because of his disability. Even with their weapons, we made short work of them. Maybe they were cadets, but if they were full-fleged mercenaries, I feel pretty sorry for whoever hires them.

These two were unarmed, also, though. They weren't SeeDs. But, if they weren't, then who were they? Why did they have a grudge against us? I didn't have much time to think as the big guy tried to tackle me. I stuck out my foot and tripped him. Ward, not someone who'd hit a man while he was down, lifted him upright by his collar and punched him in the face, hard.

The smaller one started groaning. He convulsed on the ground, making odd noises and shaking.

"No, Jimmy," shouted the other one. "Not now! It's broad daylight!" He broke free of Ward's grasp, picked up his friend, and ran off. I raised my fist up in the air in my traditional victory gesture. It wasn't quite as cool-looking as when I have my gun, but still pretty impressive.

"Dum-dum-dum-dum, dum dum dum, duh-dum," I sang.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kiros demanded.

"I call it our 'victory theme'," I said.

"Victory theme?"

"You know," I tried to explain, "the fanfare we sing right after we win a fight. It's kind of a tribute to our prowess in battle. Pretty cool, huh?"

"I think it's pretty stupid."

"Ward likes it," I protested. "Right, Ward?"

Ward whistled our victory theme in response, then smiled.

Kiros groaned and held his head in his hands.

We decided the best way to figure out what Lauren MacDougall was up to was to tail her all day. First, though, we made a quick stop by the Dinchts' to pick up our armaments. It wasn't until evening, though, that our efforts were brought to fruition.

Lauren had come back to the Salty Sailor. She looked around, no doubt to check for pursuit, and walked in. Fortunately, our disguises were working perfectly. I was a policeman, Ward was dressed up as a telephone- company repairman, and Kiros as a dog.

Actually, Kiros had been really mad when I told him he'd have to be a dog for our stakeout duty.

"A DOG?!" he'd said. "HOW THE $#@* IS THAT GONNA FOOL ANYONE?"

"Trust me," I told him. "It's a great disguise."

Truth be told, it was in fact just a little joke Ward and I were playing on our friend. Ward and I were both chuckling as he walked around the street on all fours.

We convened after we saw the girl enter the pub. As Ward had suggested, we walked around and entered through the back, Kiros going first. After all, as we had told Kiros, who would suspect a dog who just wandered in the open back door? Ward and I, trying to stop laughing, snuck in quietly after him, hiding behind a couple of empty kegs while Kiros nosed around.

"Hey!" a voice I recognized shouted. "What's going on in here?"

The lights turned on. I peeked around the keg I was crouching behind. While I had recognized the voice, I certainly did not recognize the huge, shaggy gentleman who was standing in the doorway. He had a long, snouted jaw, and ears that pointed straight up out of his head. His hairy arms ended in clawed hands. In short, he was...a werewolf!

"Uh, woof?" Kiros suggested.

"What are you doing in here, brother?" said the werewolf. "We've got plenty of beer in the party room. And stand up. No self-respecting lycanthrope would go on all fours."

Kiros stood up. "That's better," said the werewolf. "Let's go. What was your name again?"

Faced with a pressure-filled situation, Kiros had to respond with his own name, having no time to make one up.

"Alright, Kiros, let's go get some booze."

I couldn't believe that the joke disguise we'd made up for Kiros had turned out to be the most useful of all. Ward, looking stupefied, followed me as I crept towards the door.

Inside the "party room" were a whole gang of werewolves. Apparently, Balamb had a secret society of its own! I looked around, and saw no sign of the MacDougall girl among the hairy partygoers. I burst in, still in my costume.

"All right, nobody move! Balamb police! Where are you hiding Lauren MacDougall?!"

"Grrr! It's that SAME GUY!" A thin, brown-furred wolf came towards me. "Let's get him!"

I drew my gun. Ward, having no desire to drag his 250-pound anchor around with him on this case, grabbed a handy broomstick from the other room, twisted off the head, and twirled it around in his hand, looking better than I did in most of my martial arts films. Ward, being an accomplished martial artist, had taken quite a few parts in my movies as well. Unfortunately, his lack of a voice box relegated him to mostly "badguy" parts, except in that one, Cid Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Mice and Men," where he played the big, stupid guy (with a dubbed voice) who accidentally kills a whole family en route to Dollet. I, playing the smaller, mentally unstable hero, realize I have to choice but to shoot him and end his misery. It's a great adaptation of the literary classic, so go out to your local video store and rent it today! (Editor's Note: Once again, Mr. Loire's views do not necessarily reflect "Timber Maniacs"'s views on the film, "The Grapes of Mice and Men.")

Actually, Ward won an Academy Award for that role---sorry, I was rambling. Anyway, as these two werewolves lined up to fight us, I realized that these were the two guys that had tried to waylay us in the alley the afternoon previous. But what could the connection be? What!?

Ward, sensing my inner turmoil, gave me a string of hand gestures.

"Oh, that's it," I said, slapping my forehead. "You're both werewolves!"

"Well, DUH." said the big one, growling.

"Hey, Kiros!" I shouted. "Are you going join the fray here, or what, dude?"

"I can't reach the zipper on my costume!" He was struggling, trying to reach said zipper behind his back, to no avail.

"COSTUME?!" yelled the big werewolf incredulously. "It looks so....real."

"Give me a hand, Laguna!"

"Not unless you promise to sing the victory theme with me!" I threatened.

"It's idiotic! I refuse!"

"Then you'll just have to fight in that stupid-looking thing."

"Stupid-looking!" The littler werewolf, ostensibly Jimmy, seemed annoyed.

Ward whistled and snapped. I looked as he spoke to me in sign language.

"What'd he say?" asked the big werewolf.

"He says, 'Are we gonna fight here, or what?'"

"Tell him we'll be happy to take you guys on, anytime," said Jimmy.

Ward signed some more. "You don't have to sign to me, jackass. I can still hear," I repeated.

"Hey, interrupted the bigger one. "Don't call people 'jackass,' huh? How do WE know whether you can hear or not?"

"Yeah," added Jimmy. "And you don't have to use abusive sign language like that."

"Laguna!" Kiros screamed. "Get me outta this thing!"

"You know the rules..."

"Okay, okay. I promise I'll sing your lame 'victory theme' when we win the battle."

"Groovy," I said, unzipping his dog costume.

Kiros, free of the disguise, drew his blades. "All right, let's go."

"WAIT!"

We all stopped, saying nothing. A lithe, blond female werewolf had interspersed herself between us and the others.

"This is all my fault. Don't fight!"

I stepped forward. "Look, miss. I don't know who you think you are, but this isn't over until we find out where Lauren MacDougall is!"

"Laguna---" Kiros began.

"And if that means spreading these two werewolves all over the floor, then that's what we're gonna---"

Kiros slapped the back of my head. "You IDIOT! That is Lauren MacDougall!"

"What!?" I was dumbfounded.

The werewolfess shifted back to her human form. It was, indeed, Lauren MacDougall.

"I'm sorry for causing all this trouble, guys," she said to her fellow lycanthropes. "My daddy hired these three to find out what I was doing those nights when I was away."

"Oh," said Jimmy.

I was sputtering, "What?.. but--you don't... I, uh."

"Please don't tell him!" she begged us. She ran up to Ward. "If you do, he might have me committed to some hospital, or something worse!"

I couldn't figure out why she was pleading with Ward. I was the hero. The girl was supposed to beg to me. At least, that's the way it worked in the movies, and in real life, most of the time.

"We might feel it necessary to keep this information from your father," Kiros offered, "but we're being paid a great deal of money to follow you, you see, and..."

"I can pay you forty-five thousand Gil," she stated.

"Done!" Kiros exclaimed.

"It's always good to see a business deal being worked out, right Jimmy?"

"You bet," said the smaller werewolf.

"Why don't you want your father to know about this, Lauren?" I asked, shuffling closer to her to work my charm.

"Daddy's sponsoring this new anti-werewolf legislation in the Balamb Senate," she explained. "You know, no werewolves in public parks, bus stops, that sort of thing. It's really bogus."

"Huh?" I said, scratching my head as I tried to puzzle it out. I understood "bogus," but the rest seemed to complicated for even my great mind to figure.

Kiros made introductions, and then we all had some beer, which was great, if you ask me. In fact, everything seemed to be coming up roses when...

"Nobody move!"

"It's the Anti-Werewolf Interdiction Task Force!" cried the big werewolf, whose name, as I learned was Walter.

Three AWITF team members burst into the back room, each bearing heavy weaponry. "Remember your promise!" I shouted to Kiros as we launched into combat.

Ward rushed two of the policemen with his broomstick, knocking them to the ground, as I fired a few rounds at the remaining one. He blocked them with his large shield, and Kiros snuck up behind him, braining him with one of his blades. Ward used his makeshift weapon to knock the other two cold.

"You know what it's time for now," I said excitedly.

"All right..." Kiros grumbled.

"DUM-DUM-DUM-DUM, DUM DUM DUM, DUH-DUM!" we sang as Ward whistled along.

"God, that was dumb," Kiros ranted.

I, still thrusting my gun up in the air, didn't give much thought to his displeasure, basking in the glow of victory.

"Oooh, Mr. Ward, you were soooo cool!.."

"It was DUMB! Get it? Dumb-dumb-dumb-dumb---"

"I get it."

It was about three o'clock the next day when we went to see MacDougall once again. MacDougall was sitting at his desk as Kiros and I entered the room.

"Well," he demanded, "did you find out anything?"

"Yes sir," I replied.

"Actually," said Kiros, "your worries were misplaced, Mr. MacDougall. Your daughter just has an incredibly active social life. No drugs, booze, sex, or anything of the sort---well, maybe a little booze, but she is of age, right?"

"Yes," he grumbled. "I was sure there was something..."

"Nope," I cut him off. "Your daughter, Mr. MacDougall, is definitely NOT a werewolf."

"LAGUNA!"

I tried to cover my slip, gracefully of course. "What? She's not, right? You don't think she IS, do you Kiros?"

"What's all this?" shouted MacDougall.

"Nothing, sir," Kiros said, trying to soothe his fears. "We did, however, encounter a couple of werewolves last night who were attacking your daughter---and taught them a good lesson, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah!" I agreed. "And then we sang our cool VICTORY THEME!! Dum-dum-dum-dum--"

"Laguna! Cut that out!"

"Sorry, Kiros."

"Anyway," Kiros continued, "we'll take our twelve thousand Gil now."

"I don't think so," said MacDougall. "You didn't find anything out, so why should I pay you?"

"Well," began Kiros, "According to section 12, paragraph C, of our contract, 'the private investigators (hereafter referred to as party A) shall determine whenceforth the terms of the contract (see section 9, paragraph E) have been fulfilled, and the employer (party C) shall immediately pay all fees required to party A on demand."

Not wanting to hear this debate, I exited the office.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Loire."

It was Lauren, and standing next to her was....Ward?

"Good to see you, Miss MacDougall." I looked at my huge friend. "Where have you been?"

Ward looked up and down our client's daughter, then winked at me, and whistled a certain victory theme of which I am sure you are all acquainted.

It's funny how Ward can say so much without saying anything at all.

Laguna Loire, the author, attended Vinzer Deling High School before enrolling in the Galbadian Military Academy. He served three tours of duty in the Galbadian Army, and has since become an actor, starring in several films such as "The Day the Roaches Stood Still" and "Mr. Smith goes to Dollet." He also has had starring roles in the television sitcoms, "My Father, the Toaster" and "Everybody Loves Laguna." His articles appear bi-monthly in Timber Maniacs.

This article was edited by Aaron D. Roberts