Way out wander lies the little kingdom of Bongo Congo. A peaceful land, where contented natives play contented songs on their contented drums; bongo drums: the principal product of the kingdom; in fact, the only product of the kingdom.

High in the purple castle, overlooking the land, sat good King Leonardo Lion on his throne, deep into his monthly stamp rearrangement. Leonardo was trying, anyhow, though at the moment his attention had been stolen away by a comic book.

From the side of the golden room entered a purple-cloaked skunk. He wore reading glasses and a large collar around his neck that a broken clock hung from. He also wore reading glasses and held papers, tapping them against his chest before walking closer toward the King.

"My liege," he said rather softly.

The King jumped regardless. One of his paws slammed into a music stand that held his stamp book, knocking it into the ground and scattering all the unstable stamps to the floor.

Odie instinctively rushed over and crouched down. "Allow me to gather those for you sire… I'm terribly sorry, sir."

"Oh, it's fine, Odie," the King reassured, shifting from his spread position across both armrests. He stood and crouched across from Odie, placing the stamps carelessly in his book for the moment. "I needed to sort through them, anyway."

Odie didn't stop, however. Eventually, he grabbed a very specific stamp: a green-blue lady with a pointed crown, holding a torch and standing against a waving, starry flag of red, white and blue.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said, catching the King's attention in a less destructive matter, "We're going to America in a… few days… for a good-will trip, to further our friendship and trade relation."

The King blinked, surprised. "So soon?"

"Yes," Odie replied, "I forgot until now."

"That's alright, Odie," the King answered, excitedly. He stood up and plopped his book into his throne before facing Odie once more. "Now, tell me, who are we meeting, where?"

"I'm not sure entirely…" Odie answered honestly, picking up his now-messier papers. "But, I can tell you that we have a week or two in advance to sight-see around New York City."

Unfortunately, Itchy Lion and Biggie Rat had heard about the tour of New York. With that, they had decided it would be the perfect opportunity to do away with the King and Odie, and had already flown to New York to make the necessary arrangements. Now the twosome were unpacking in a hotel room off Madison Avenue.

It was a dingy little place. It's walls were a gross, washed-out green and the drywall was falling off. The window didn't open and the radiator hardly worked. The bed was hardly enough to hold both of them and its blankets were bright orange. Plus, the dark, rain-washed landscape outside wasn't exactly making it feel any better. But, for the time being, it would work.

"Say, Big," Itchy wondered while looking out the window, half to himself and half to the rat, "What did we come to NYC for again?"

Biggie chuckled and hauled their suitcase up onto the bed. "Well! Kingsy's coming up here to make sure that America and Bongo Congo stay in cahoots." Biggie paused a moment and looked at Itchy over his shoulder. "Least to say, I've got some… connections, shall we say, to help us take him out."

Itchy had turned to Biggie as well. He rested a tan, tilted head on scarred arms and had one pricked ear. Itchy pursed his lips before replying, "We can't, like, do that back home?" Biggie turned around completely to face the lion. Itchy stepped away and faced him, raising his arms in confusion. "Like, what about Odie?" Itchy went on, "He could, like, trace it back to us, y'know? Why else would we both be here? Plus, he carries a dagger."

Biggie scoffed and smiled, spinning on his shoe heels back to the suitcase. "That Cologne won't live to tell the tale." Itchy rolled his eyes, defeated, and retreated back to looking out the window and into the rainy, smoggy scene of Manhattan. Biggie went on, brandishing a gun and looking in Itchy's direction. "If Leonardo doesn't return to the throne, that means that you're the next fully-grown blueblood there is. The people won't have any choice but to enstate you. And, if Leonardo's prime minister isn't there, there's no vocal opposition."

"Yeah…" Itchy acknowledged, disinterested. A bit louder, he continued, "So who are these connections?" he asked, making air quotes with his fingers on the word.

"NYC's dog-run branch of underground mafia," Biggie stated, matter-of-factly. Itchy furrowed his eyebrows and faced Biggie, confused. The rat continued, "Quite the crew."

"Huh…"

"Two dogs in the head," Biggie informed, rather carelessly tossing his gun in Itchy's direction. The lion caught it sloppily. "They held a priest at gunpoint to marry them," Biggie went on with a small laugh, "One of them is half wolf. There's a… a powerhouse malamute, a couple of promoted bank robbers and a tiger wrestler with rabies. He's a jailbreak… and that isn't even everyone."

Itchy padded closer and put the gun down on the bed. "But, uh," he alleged, "Doesn't America have animal-specific jails, like… zoos?"

Biggie chuckled and faced his partner, "You say that like we couldn't break out. Besides…" he stepped away from the suitcase and leaned into Itchy in a hug for a moment. Itchy grabbed back and Biggie leaned back out, though didn't release his grip. "...you think I'd let the police take you?"

Itchy giggled, moving one of his hands to tilt Biggie's head upward, giving him a solid kiss. Itchy pulled away a few seconds later and, suddenly interested, asked, "And we're meeting these, uh… leaders, when?"

"Two days from now," Biggie replied, "When the King and Odie arrive. That gives us a few days for planning, kidnapping, getting you all royaled up and… executing."