"Hey little buddy, guess who's back in town?" Sam asked, setting the phone back on the receiver.

"Ooh ooh! Ehhhh, Brady Culture!" Max replied, the lagomorph looking up from the barrel of his pistol.

"Nope, try again."

"The Soda Poppers? We haven't seen those guys in weeks!"

"Nope, try again."

"Angelina Jolie? It's Angie, isn't it?!" the hyper-kinetic rabbit shouted, jumping out of the chair attached to his diminuitive desk "Please tell me Angelina's come back to town!"

"Calm down, little buddy- no bigshot celebrities in town this month." Sam replied.

"Awww..." Max stated sadly, his ears drooping.

"Cheer up, I've got something even better for you."

"Really? What is it?" Max asked excitedly.

"The Toy Mafia are back, and the commissioner just asked us to track them down before they can cause anymore serious damage."

"Oh boy! Let's go down to the casino and bust some heads!" Max cheered, loading his pistol.

"Not so fast, little buddy," Sam stated, taking Max by the scruff of his neck "as much as I'd love to go down there and deliver our own special brand of vigilante justice, the Mafia actually planned ahead this time."

"By doing what? Taking a hostage?"

"Yes, actually, but that's not all."

"What could be worse than that?"

"They stole cookie money from the local Girl Scout troop."

"I take it back, it could be worse than that!"

"Right you are little buddy, ready to go?"

"You bet!"

The two left the office, heading down the stairs to the main lobby of the building. Walking out into the street, the two headed towards their Desoto. Max shouted "Shotgun!" before hoping into the passenger seat.

"Such a shame I'm not President anymore, I could've gotting this old thing fixed up." Max stated, patting the leather seat of the car.

"Too bad...but still, nothing like the feel of used leather." Sam replied, jumping into the driver's seat.

"Sam, why is it that you always jump into the car?" Max asked.

"I lost the key to the door the day we got back from the dealership." Sam replied, revving the engine.

"That makes sense." Max stated as the Desoto swerved, rounding the corner loosely and out into open traffic.

Several drivers either honked their horns or got out of the way as the black-and-white vehicle made its way out.

"This is your first and only warning," Max shouted obnoxiously through a megaphone "get out of the way or prepare to die!"

(Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location)

She felt dizzy, her entire body ached as she felt ice-cold clamps restrain her hands and feet.

"She ready?" she heard someone ask in a heavy Bronx-accent.

"Yeah, Doc is too." another replied.

Dark, fuzzy shapes swam in her vision, unable to tell who or what was talking.

"Good."

She whimpered as she felt a gloved hand touch her shoulder, and felt tears slip down her face.

"It'll all be over soon, dolly." the first man stated.

She wanted so badly to go home, she wanted so desperately to see her family again.

She became vaguely aware of a syringe sinking into her shoulder, and she knew nothing more, cut off from world in the inky blackness of unconsiousness.