“All right,” Ester enter the front door of the small bungalow; “I’m hear what is the emergency Lila?”
“Our husbands,” Amanda looking at the were-tigress in her human form; “are in the backyard drunk.”
“Again,” Ester sighing; “what’s the emergency?”
“You haven’t heard,” Lila shaking her head; “we are under a were-alert.”
It takes a moment for Ester to digest what her pregnant sister in-law just said. Listening to the radio on her way over, Ester caught a part of a bizarre weather report from KMLC just as she turned off her car. Her exasperated expression turning into abject rage as she starts to growl; marching to the back yard with Lila and Amanda following, the other two wives look on as Ester snarls and roars at her husband who is obviously drunk and in his fursona.
Observing Rick being slapped silly and listening on as Ester berates him for his stupidity; she walks off leaving Lance and Benton who watched on laughing but their mirth cut short as they see Lila and Amanda both glaring at the two drunk were-panthers.
“Well its clear,” Ester entering the kitchen and sitting; “Rick is clearly to soused to drive home.”
“So is Benton,” Amanda growling; “and his meds are all at home and he needs to take them.”
“Well Lance is my problem,” Lila noshing on a banana; “how do you intend to deal with either of yours?”
“Well I said it earlier,” Amanda grumbling; “Benton can sleep it off over here.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Ester thinking; “Rick can suffer over here as well.”
“And leave me alone with three drunk weres,” Lila staring at her sister in-laws; “have you forgotten that I’m pregnant?”
“Didn’t say you’d have to stay here,” Ester speaking; “we could always have a girls night out while our husband’s are pass out drunk.”
“If they pass out,” Lila finishing the banana she was eating; “they did drink all the beer, but I’m worried they might try to run out and get more or just do something stupid in their fursonas while we are under a were-alert. Plus who is currently minding Cindy, Jasper and Yogi?”
Lila was referring to the fact that since a mobster and a bunch of out of town normals are in Moon Lake raising a big stink; mayor Samantha Twist had to enact emergency procedures to protect the town’s secret existence of were’s. As such coded messages were being broadcasted over both of Moon Lake’s radio stations and will be printed in both the Sunday and Morning editions of the gazette.
“We can’t let them drive,” Amanda speaking; “that is for certain.”
“So what are you proposing,” Ester speaking,” that we take our husbands keys away?”
“That and their vehicles,” Amanda smiling; “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always wanted to drive my husband’s Lamborghini.”
"Lila," Ester getting up; "pack and overnight bag and meet me back home. The kids will like seeing you there while I help Amanda drive some cars."
"We'll chew our husband's out tomorrow," Amanda speaking; "they should be good and hungover then."
******
Back in the backyard, Lance who surprisingly has not in his fursona was laughing as Benton was struggling to stand on his own two digitigrade paws; watching his older brother crawling on the grass as he feebly struggled to head to the front door. Despite his inebriated condition; Benton recognized the sound of his Lamborghini Veneno starting up and being driven off.
“Some one… is stealing my baby,” Benton struggling to get up; “h-help me stop them Lance.”
“And do what,” Lance giggling as he is holding onto the last beer can from the case he and Lila purchased last night; “chase your gas guzzling beast as we stumble and trip to the front door?”
“But-but that’s my car,” Benton failing to remain vertical; “how am I supposed to get home?”
“You don’t,” Lila looking at the struggling were-panther trying to stand up; “Amanda is driving your car. Ester is close behind as they head back to the estate to get your pills. Afterwards,” Lila looking at her brother who is already passed out; “we are heading out for a little fun ourselves, while you three can just sleep it off here in the back yard and suffer in the morning. And suffer you will,” the pregnant were-tigress growling; “I’ll be taking your keys as well as the Prius, Lance.”
Lance looks on as Benton laughs despite being able to stand up. “Looks like you’re in the doghouse as well brother!”
“It seems Rick,” Lance managing to stand up and stumble over to the were-tiger; “is fast asleep. His loss,” Lance grinning; “I think I still have a bottle of single malt scotch inside.”
“Ooohh,” Benton using the patio table to help prop him up; “the good stuff?”
“Since when is a bottle of fifty year old scotch never good,” Lance grinning.
“You go get it,” Benton collapsing in a chair; “I can't move any farther.”
Shuffling inside the house on shaky legs; Lance looks in the kitchen for that special bottle he was saving for an occasion. Yet in his current drunken condition; Lance failed to remember that the scotch he was looking for was long gone. Giving it to Rick all those months ago after he helped his sister move in; it also helped the suspicious and over protective were-tiger look at Lance in a better light. With the slow realization that Lance didn’t have any more liquor; the were-panther who is now in his fursona; his clothes ripped and torn as they did not survive his shifting. Stumbling back outside, Lance sees his brother passed out from where he sat down.
“Looks like you can’t hold your liquor either,” Lance staring at the sleeping were-panther and sitting down on a chair as well; he too quickly nods off.
******
Amanda was grinning as she ripped on down the roads in her husband’s car. The Lamborghini able to reach a hundred miles per hour in a second or two; she was having a fun time driving the beast as curious onlookers see the vehicle causing so much noise. Knowing that if she kept driving crazy, she would get pulled over by the police and possibly have the car impounded. Amanda knew Benton would be livid at that happening; yet a small part of her felt it would be a fitting punishment for him getting drunk.
Driving properly as she headed back home; she unknowingly drove past the hotel that Freddie the Shark is holed up in. With a member of his gang noticing the sweet ride racing past, followed by a navy blue Tesla sports car; the man felt the need to follow both vehicles as they made their way through town. While the rented black Honda Civic could not hope to out race the two fast cars; it was able to maintain a discreet distance as the man followed, able to keep them in sight. Observing as the two vehicles enter a gated estate; the man who is a professional burglar thinks to himself, ‘perhaps we have time to pull a job or two while the boss is busy with his son’s problems.’ Making a note of the address, the crook drives back to the hotel to gather his comrades to scope out the estate and plan a break in.