"I hate working in storms like this," Sergeant Vane said to his partner Officer Castle as they stared blankly out onto the deserted stretch of Poplar Avenue before them in the parking lot of Shermer's Acme store, "There's nothing to do, really, so nobody's out and about."

"Tell me about it," Officer Castle agreed. Although new to the force (this was only his fourth month on active duty), he'd heard many stories in the academy about how miserable it was during the winter months, when crime as a whole went down, and there was little to do except patrol endlessly over the same blocks. Sure, the town was now on its heels due to the South Bend Shovel Slayer being on the loose, and burglaries had been up after the big jailbreak a few days ago, but all in all, the weather was making for a dismal stretch for the men and women of the Shermer police department.

"Well, at least I'll be home with the family tomorrow," Sergeant Vane rationalized, taking another bite out of his Boston crème donut, "Been waiting a long time for..."

Just then, three cars zoomed by the store at well past the town's speed limit. Both cops stared in wonder as they sped around the corner of Walnut Street. "Well, here's little relief to the monotony," Sergeant Vane said to his partner as they pulled out into traffic in pursuit of the cars.

"Attention, this is one Adam 18," Officer Castle said into the radio as the sergeant turned on the siren and lights, "We are in high speed pursuit of three vehicles heading southbound on Walnut Street, in the 700 block.

Vehicles are a blue 2003 Mercedes XLT 300 with heavy damage to the front and sides of the car, license plate number 4FBDO, a black 2004 Cadillac Deville, license plate number HA2LNNY, and a gray 1986 Dodge Ram van, registered to Oh-Kay Plumbing and Heating, license plate number WRWA2DUM..." he broke off and started laughing as he realized the subliminal message this license plate was sending, before continuing, "Request patrol unit backup within four blocks if suspects refuse to stop."

In front of the cops, Rooney turned around at the sound of the sirens and groaned. He hadn't had much of a good relationship with the cops ever since he'd nearly gotten into a fight with the ones at the town impound yard back in April, when they'd overcharged him for getting his car out, which the town had towed for being parked in front of a hydrant. Never mind that he'd been on an important mission that might have bagged him Ferris. But anyway, he knew that resistance would not only ruin his reputation further, it would also set back his current attempt at getting his nemesis. So it was with a deep disliking that he pulled his car over to the curb.

Behind him, Vernon, who prided himself on never have done an illegal thing in his adult life, was similarly disappointed to find himself being pulled over. "Damn it!" he muttered to himself as he parked the car on the shoulder, hoping this would only take a minute and only bring about a minor citation.

The Wet Bandits, on the other hand, were taking their pulling over a little more seriously. Indeed, Marv was now practically hopping up and down in terror at the sight of a cop car behind them. "We're pinched now, Harry," he moaned to his buddy, "Oh boy, are we pinched!"

"We ain't pinched yet, ya chicken!" Harry growled at him, "Here, put on your dark glasses."

"Why?" Marv inquired as he put them on.

"It's dark, you dummy; they may not recognize us," Harry answered, very miffed that Marv didn't get his drift right away. He whistled nervously as Sergeant Vane walked up and knocked on his window. The burglar rolled it down. "Evenin', officer," he greeted the Sergeant, "There a problem here?"

"Yes, Mr...."

"Um,....." Harry thought for an acceptable alias, "uh, Weasley. Ron Weasley. This is my pal, uh, Vincent Crabbe," he nodded toward Marv.

Sergeant Vane chuckled. "Oh really?" he asked, "You don't fool me, you two; my daughter reads those books all the time. Would you mind telling me why you were going seventy miles an hour in a thirty mile an hour zone?"

Marv cut in before Harry could think of an answer. "Well officer, we just got the van here washed, and rather than risk it freezin' up, we decided to, uh, blow dry it by drivin' fast," he explained. Harry slapped his hands to his face at the sound of this incredibly stupid response.

"I see," Sergeant Vane said, unable to suppress a laugh, "Mr. Weasley, if that's how you want to be called, would you mind stepping out of the vehicle for a drunk test?"

"Sure thing," Harry sighed. He snarled at Marv, "Next time let me do all the talkin'!" as he stepped out onto the street.

In front of them, Rooney waved his arms as he tried to plead his case to Officer Castle. "No, no, no, I'm telling you, there's a madman at 671 Lincoln Boulevard!" he shouted for what had to have been the umpteenth time, "He fired at us with a cannon, and in our hurry to save ourselves, we might have gone over the speed limit a few miles an hour!"

"A few miles an hour?" Officer Castle chuckled, "Try over half the legal speed limit! And not to sound rude here, but do you really think this car is safe for travel on our streets?"

"Well, I'm still working on getting it back to tip-top shape, but it's good till then!" Rooney argued.

"Um hmm," Officer Castle turned back to his partner, "Say Sarge, do you think this guy's car's safe for the roads?"

"Nope," Sergeant Vane called back.

"Right," Officer Castle turned back to Rooney with a smile, happy to be making essentially his first bust. "Sorry, Ed, we'll have to impound your car," he told him.

"Oh COME ON!" Rooney yelled at him, frustrated. He dug out his wallet.

"Look sir, I'm willing to pay you more than double what the ticket will be," he said quickly, handing Castle almost two hundred dollars. Officer Castle smiled as he pushed it away. "Are you trying to bribe me, an officer of the law?" he asked, "Rule number one of being a cop is never take money from any..."

"He's coming your way!" Sergeant Vane shouted suddenly. Harry, have passed his sobriety test with flying colors, had jumped back in his van and taken off up the street even faster than he'd gone before he'd been pulled over. Officer Castle jumped out of the way as the van nearly ran him over. He pulled out his gun, hoping to take out the tires, but it was well out of sight before he could line up a good shot.

"Uh, we didn't know them, officer," Vernon said quickly, "They just happened to be behind us when you pulled us over. Look, uh, could you just write the tickets and let us on our way?"

"No can do, Richard," Officer Castle said, reading Vernon's name off his confiscated driver's license, "You've got to take a Breathalyzer test yourself."

"Now do I look like I'm drunk to you!?" Vernon bellowed, "I'm not slurring, I'm not staggering all over the place; do you really think I'm drunk!!??"

"Um hmm," Officer Castle nodded. Anger, they'd taught him at the academy was always a clear sign of intoxication. "Richard, would you mind walking the white line there in the middle of the street?"

"Sure," Vernon started to walk up the line.

"On one hand," Castle told him.

"WHAT!!??" Vernon yelled out. Castle pointed to the ground. Vernon rolled his eyes and started doing a handstand on the line. "This is ridiculous!" he muttered to himself, "Spending the day before Christmas embarrassing myself in the middle of...!"

"One Adam 18, please respond," came the dispatcher's voice over the radio, "We have out of control vehicle on Douglass Avenue nearing Highland Park city limits, a brown 1980 Ford Pinto with heavy smoke coming out the tailpipe, swerving erratically over road; please respond."

Sergeant Vane grabbed the radio. "Roger, will handle," he told the dispatcher, "Please send a tow truck to the 600 block of Walnut Street; we have vehicle here unfit for highway travel.

"Otto, you stay here and book these two," he told Officer Castle as he climbed back into the cruiser, "I'll handle the runaway vehicle and come back to wrap this up."

"Right Sarge," Officer Castle called to him as his partner pulled off. He turned back to the simmering Vernon and Rooney. "So, have either of you been arrested before?" he asked them.

"Go soak your head!" Rooney growled contemptuously.

"Okay, that's bad-mouthing an officer, too," Officer Castle wrote down more info on his citation pad.

"Nice going, Ed, you've managed to thoroughly embarrass both of us tonight!" Vernon muttered to his colleague.

"Well you didn't have to be here, Richard, you willingly chose to assist me with this!" Rooney shot back.

"Okay gentlemen, I guess since you're both not drunk, I'll let you off with just a ticket, but don't let me catch either of you speeding in this town again, or I'll have to do worse," Officer Castle told them both, handing each of them their tickets.

"We won't, thank you officer," Vernon told him.

"Ah, here's the tow truck now," Officer Castle said, waving up the street for the tow truck. Rooney growled and slouched into the front passenger seat of Vernon's car. "Give me a lift, Richard," he said miserably to Vernon. "If this involves another assassination attempt on your part, Ed, I'm not going along!" Vernon told him firmly.

"No, not tonight," Rooney said, "Just take me home." His face went devious again. "I've got to think up a new way to kill Ferris and everyone around him."

"Red light!" Miles shouted to Maizy on the floor. She pressed down on the brake, and the car lurched haphazardly to a stop-in the wrong lane, although with so little traffic on the road do to the storm, it didn't really matter. Maizy hit the accelerator again. "How much further?" she asked her brother.

"I heard Tia say something about it being over in Highland Park on Warren Street, so it's still about three more miles," Miles said, swerving erratically from lane to lane.

"Do you hear a siren?" Maizy asked suddenly. Miles turned back to see a cop car coming after then. "Perfect!" he muttered, "We don't have time for this!"

"Maybe he'll be quick about it," Maizy suggested, braking again.

"Here's to hoping," Miles said, pulling over as best he could, which entailed going over half the curb on the wrong side of the road.

Sergeant Vane strolled confidently over to the car and knocked on the windshield. "Okay pal, show me your license and..." he began, but took one look at the car's drivers once the window came down and keeled over backwards in a dead faint.

"So what's with him?" Miles asked, looking over the window.

"He's probably really sleepy," Maizy hypothesized, "Cops get that from working so late."

"I'll bet," Miles agreed. He turned the engine back on and swerved back onto the road toward Highland Park.

"Tia, I think what you're trying to do is noble, but unfortunately I'm through with your uncle," Chanice told her would-be niece inside the bathroom of the ultra-chic and ultra-expensive Upper Crust Restaurant in the best neighborhood of Highland Park.

"Chanice, I know you get mad at him a lot, and I happen to agree with my family that in this case you were right, but it's tearing him up that you don't want anything else to do with him," Tia half-lied.

"I'm sorry, but my mind's made up," Chanice said definitively, "Tell him he made one mistake too many." Noticing and misinterpreting the disappointed look on Tia's face, she added, "Don't think this won't put anything between us; you're still free to stop in at my garage at any time and ask for advice with life."

The bathroom door opened just a crack. "Uh, Mrs. Kobalowski, my father wants to talk to you about something," Cutter called in.

"Oh really?" Chanice was a little surprised that she was needed so immediately before dinner had even been served yet, but she nodded and said, "I'll be right there." Turning back to Tia, she added on, "I'll talk to him occasionally, but that's it."

"Okay," Tia shrugged in defeat, "but I don't think he'll take this too well,"

"Well that's his problem, as usual," Chanice snorted. She exited the bathroom, leaving Tia to glance into the mirror and wonder what her next move should be-and why she had to have chosen a formal dress two sizes too small for this dinner date.

"Chanice my dearest," Tarquin greeted the tire saleswoman with an affectionate kiss on the arm.

"What's so important, Mark?" Chanice returned the kiss with one of the biggest smiles she'd let loose in some time now.

"First of all, I wanted to make sure you got me Christmas present," Tarquin handed her a long, thin wrapped present. Chanice eagerly unwrapped it. "Ruby-studded earrings!" she exclaimed at the sight of the jewels glittering inside the case, "Just like the ones you said you were going to get me for the holidays so long ago! Thank you Mark, it's good to know there's man in my life I can trust with remembering something important."

"It's my pleasure to be that man," Tarquin smiled. He wasn't going to let it on to Chanice, of course, but everything was now going according to plan.

"And while you're here still, I'd like you to sign this paper," he said, handing the form to her.

"What's this?" Chanice asked, scanning the paper over.

"It's, um, an insurance claim form," Tarquin said quickly, "I'd, uh, like to make sure that in the event that your tire store gets damaged in a fire or burglary or something like that, it'll be safe and secure monetarily."

"I already have some insurance, Mark...." Chanice began.

"Yes, true, but I'd like to make sure that you're absolutely safe," Tarquin said. He handed her a pen. "Sign it, Chanice, and all your worries will be over forever," he added on.

"There it is, Upper Crust!" Miles pointed up the street. They were headed straight toward the restaurant at almost sixty miles an hour.

"You sure?" Maizy asked.

"That's definitely the name Tia mentioned," Miles told her, "Hit the brakes."

Maizy pressed down on the pedal again. This time, however, it sank straight to the floor. "Brakes are gone!" she cried. Realizing this fact and that they were about to go straight into the restaurant, Miles did the only other thing he could do. He-and Maizy-screamed at the top of their lungs.

"Well, if you think I should sign it, Mark, here it goes," Chanice said. She put the pen to the paper and started to sign her name, but at that moment there was a sound akin to an explosion from the front of the restaurant. Screams and the sound of breaking glass surged toward them as Buck's car plowed into the main dining area. Both Chanice and Tarquin dove for cover as it obliterated their table and every other one in the dining room before finally coming to a stop with a hard crash against the rear wall. Tarquin started to get back up, but Chanice, having recognized the car, pulled him back down again. "You'll thank me in a minute," she told him. The car's backfiring seconds later proved her right; the other rich restaurant patrons who'd gotten back up already ran panic-stricken around at the backfiring, which to them, having never seen the car before, sounded like gunfire. Most of them had already ruined their suits, some very expensive, in their own food.

"All right Buck," a seething Chanice thought to herself as she finally did pick herself up, "I told you to stay away! Now you're going to learn not to disregard my advice!" She stormed toward the car, intending to pound Buck's brains in just like she had when they'd first met eight years ago, but she, like Sergeant Vane before her, was surprised to see who was driving the car.

"Miles, Maizy, what are you doing here?" she asked her almost niece and nephew as they rushed toward her.

"Don't do anything Richie Rich tells you to, AC, he's a lying fox!" Miles breathed heavily.

"Huh?" Chanice was confused.

"He's going to steal your store!" Maizy followed up her brother.

"Hey, what do you two think you're doing?" Tia demanded her siblings, having come out of the restroom to see what was going on.

Miles spotted the acquisition paper in Tarquin's hand. He rushed over and grabbed it. "What do you think you're doing!?" Tarquin demanded him, pulling back. The two of them engaged in a heated tug-of-war for a moment before the paper split in two-into two separate sheets of paper. Miles had taken hold of the one that had been glues underneath the one Chanice had seen, and, noticing that the top paper Tarquin was now holding had a space cut out in about the same area Chanice had been about to sign moments ago, put two and two together. "Here, read this part," he said, handing it quickly to his aunt.

"Chanice, do you happen to know these little...!" Tarquin started bellowing. Chanice held up her hand for him to be quiet as she read the real form. "Final Proposal of Acquisition," she spoke out loud, "I, Chanice Irene Kobalowski, of sound mind and body, do hereby agree fully and completely to the buyout terms stated in the following bid by Tarquin Enterprises for Kobalowski Tires of the Chicago metro area, and agree to ownership by said company in full..." she threw the paper to the ground, rage plastered all over her face. "So, THIS was your big Christmas present for me, huh?" she demanded to the man she'd almost taken to be in love with her again, "You wanted my business for yourself!?"

"Um, well, Chanice, that's not, uh, supposed to be here," Tarquin said quickly, picking up the form and shoving it in his pocket, "Um, this...this I picked up by mistake at the office, I, uh,...."

He never got a chance to finish, as Chanice decked him in the lip with a wicked right hook that sent him sprawling backwards into a cart of rice pilaf that Buck's car had overturned previously. "Next time you try and weasel your way into my bank account, let me put in my five cents worth!" she snarled at him. Then she turned to Miles and Maizy and smiled, "Thank you, you two. I don't know how I can thank you for this."

"I think you can start by giving our uncle another chance," Tia piped up, giving her aunt a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I suppose your right to a degree, Tia," Chanice conceded, "Maybe the next time I see him...."

Outside, Buck groaned as he saw the trail of destruction the kids had wrought with his car come to an end at the restaurant. "Great! I'm gonna get nailed for this!" he said out loud.

"You and me both, bud," the snowplow driver told him, "I'm way off route now."

"It's OK, you can let me off here," Buck jumped out. He ran inside the restaurant and gasped at just how much had been damaged. This was definitely going to take up the rest of his measly paycheck. Then he noticed the kids were in the dining room, and that the maitre'd was starting to come toward them. He rushed forward, eager to clean up anything quickly. "Look, sir, I'm sorry this had to happen to your place," he spit out before the maitre'd could get started, "You see, my niece and nephew here, they....!"

"Buck," Chanice addressed him.

"Look Chanice, I had no intention of....!" Buck tried to say, but didn't get to finish, as Chanice gave him a long and passionate kiss. "Well thanks for not saying hello!" he exclaimed once she finally finished.

"Buck, forget what I said earlier today, I want you back, "Chanice told him, "Because you're the one honest man in my life."

"Really?" now Buck was really puzzled as to what was going on, "You never said that before."

"Excuse me, but is somebody going to pay for the damages to this restaurant!?" the maitre'd demanded.

"He'll handle it," Maizy pointed to the still-down Tarquin, "He's got half the money in America."

"I think that's fair," Chanice said. She threw her new earrings down at her old love. "See if you can find some other dimwit who'd want these, because their worthless in my book, you filthy son of a bi-bullheaded goon!" she snapped, editing out the curse upon noticing Miles and Maizy were listening to her every word.

"Bullheaded goon!?" Tarquin was still stunned by the abrupt turn of events, "Listen, Chanice, this is not what it looks like, I swear, if you'll just let me...!"

Chanice tramped her foot hard down on his nuts. "Don't call me, I'll call you!" she bellowed, "When I get me attorney up to speed on how much I'm suing you for!" She put her hand around Buck's shoulder. "Come on, Buck, let's leave this joint."

"Well, if you say so," Buck was now starting to feel relief that he had her back. He took hold of Miles and Maizy's hands and led the four of them toward his slightly battered but for the most part intact car. "You know, you guys have got a lot of explaining to do when we get home," he told the kids. "Oh, it'll be worth it, Uncle Buck," Maizy told him.

"Hey, what the hell's going on out here?" Cutter asked, running up from the middle of seemingly nowhere.

"Where have you been!?" Tia was incredulous that he'd missed the fireworks.

"Diarrhea, really bad," Cutter explained, "So what happened?"

"Oh, not much; your father tried to swindle my aunt out of her business, that's all, nothing important," Tia explained.

"That's a bold-faced lie, son," Tarquin protested, "I tried to explain to everyone that...!"

"Dad, I thought we went over this that you wouldn't try to buy out people behind their backs again!" Cutter looked betrayed, "We had an agreement!"

"But it's not.....What I'm trying to say.....I wouldn't.....!" his father sputtered. Cutter had heard enough, though. "Is your family leaving?" he asked Tia, pointed to Buck's car backing back out of the restaurant.

"Guess so," Tia said.

"Then let's go with them," Cutter marched over toward the car, not even giving his father the benefit of a glance. Tia did, though. She gave Tarquin, now with a completely ruined suit, an almost mocking smile. "My family," she said proudly, "If there's one thing people never seem to learn, it that they should never be screwed with. Have a merry Christmas."

"It's not...." Tarquin started to say, but Tia left before he could finish. He groaned and wiped off as much pilaf as he could with the nearest available clean handkerchief. How could his perfectly-laid out plans have gone so wrong, he wondered.