Those were dangerous times.

  Murders in broad daylight.

  Politicians neck-deep in corruption.

  Civilians gripped by fear, afraid to so much as step outside their homes.

  And at the center of it all... The Slime Mafia.

  A vile, oozing empire of crime. Drunk on power. Unchecked. Unchallenged.

  Until now.

  Only one rock had the wit, the resolve, and the moral fortitude to bring them down.

  "Detective Waldo, we need your help," said the newly elected Mayor. "The Slime Mafia is... out of control. Drunk with power. We must find their base and wipe them out before they consume the city. The national government has given me full military authority."

  Waldo, unbothered, raised his delicate porcelain cup and took a slow, measured sip.

  "Oh. So you have come crawling at last, Mr. Mayor. I must confess, I did not expect to see you darken my doorstep… not after your most regrettable remarks during your campaign."

  He placed the cup back on its saucer with the softest clink, the weight of his disapproval filling the room far more than the silence that followed.

  The Mayor swallowed hard, his throat clicking audibly in the heavy silence.

  “I… I sincerely apologize, Detective. I had no choice but to publicly oppose you. Had I not, I never would have survived the election.”

  Waldo did not dignify the excuse with more than a slight lift of his brow.

  “Spare me your contrition, Mr. Mayor. I care not for politics. I serve the people. Remember that, and be certain it does not swell your ego.”

  With deliberate grace, Waldo reached for his bowler hat and placed it atop his smooth, polished head. He adjusted his crisply tailored black suit, straightened his collar, and exhaled through what could only be described as quiet contempt.

  It was time. Time to bring order to chaos.

  Without delay, Waldo took to the streets of Rockville, a city drowning in corruption, where crime oozed from every corner like grease from a cracked pipe.

  It would not be difficult to find one of the Slime Mafia’s goons. The only question was… which one would break first.

  Waldo walked slowly through the narrow cobblestone streets, alert and patient as stone, waiting for an opportunity to present itself... and it didn't take long.

  In a secluded alley, a woman's desperate scream was heard.

  Waldo halted, pressing himself against the wall of a nearby building. He leaned slightly, angling his vision toward the source.

  Two gelatinous figures stood in the alley, their forms quivering, translucent, almost human-shaped… almost.

  They towered over a lone woman. She was rocky, angular… and unmistakably terrified.

  Rage simmered beneath Waldo’s surface, but rage alone solved nothing.

  One misstep, and the poor woman could become yet another victim.

  He adjusted his cuffs, squared his stance… and waited for the perfect moment to strike.

  The slimy thugs loomed over the poor woman, their quivering forms inching closer, ready to strip her dignity away.

  Waldo narrowed his gaze.

  Unnaceptable.

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  With the precision of a master duelist, he slipped two small objects from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

  Super Wipes?.

  The highest quality absorbent cloth known to rockkind.

  The slimes never saw it coming.

  In a single, fluid motion, Waldo flicked his wrist, the wipes slicing through the air like divine justice itself.

  One moment, the thugs were glistening and full of malicious intent.

  The next…

  Dry. Brittle. Shrunken.

  Victims of capitalism's finest invention. Super Wipes?, absorb the impossible.

  “Are you unharmed, miss? Fear not, I have neutralized your assailants. I suggest you make haste and… forget this sordid affair ever transpired,” Waldo said, extending a gentlemanly hand to help her to her feet.

  The woman nodded shakily, her rocky features pale with fear. Without a word, she turned and fled into the night.

  Good. The priority had been addressed.

  The woman was safe, and it was time to capture the slimy men before they regenerated.

  With swift, efficient movements, Waldo dragged the two withered slime thugs deeper into the alley, where the shadows swallowed sound.

  Waldo grabbed another Super Wipes? and waved it menacingly in the air.

  “You are quite alone now, gentlemen. I would advise you to cease this childish pretense of unconsciousness and engage in conversation like proper… well, whatever it is you consider yourselves to be.”

  Waldo leaned in, voice dropping to a low, polished whisper.

  “Where… is the Slime Mafia’s base?”

  One of the slimey thugs lifted what passed for a face and grinned wide, his gooey form quivering as he spoke.

  "Oi, like 'ell we will! We ain't sayin' nothin’, mate. We’re loyal to the Slime Mafia, right? Ain’t nothin’ you can do 'bout it."

  Filthy.

  Zero elegance. Zero style.

  The second goon slithered upright, sneering as he spat a glob of slime onto Waldo’s polished shoes.

  "You’ll get nothin’ outta us, guv. We’d rather dry up 'ere than squeal, you get me?"

  Waldo exhaled slowly, as though they had already wasted more of his time than they deserved.

  With a single, fluid motion, he whipped a Super Wipe? across one of them, the crisp snap echoing through the alley like a gunshot.

  "Gentlemen," Waldo drawled, straightening his cuffs, "I assure you… you have yet to experience the full extent of my displeasure. I would advise you to reconsider before this becomes… uncivilized."

  The slimes looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  "You 'ear that, Donny? Fancy thinks 'e’s scary!"

  "Bloody adorable, innit? You ain’t clocked it yet, have ya, mate?"

  Waldo leaned forward, narrowing his gaze with icy precision.

  "And what, pray tell, have I failed to observe?"

  A sharp click echoed through the alley.

  Then...

  Boom.

  The blast shook the ground, rattling nearby windows.

  Before Waldo could react, the slimes slipped free of their restraints and shot off like cowards on buttered glass.

  Gunfire followed, heavy and unrelenting, hammering the alley walls like a steel rainstorm.

  Waldo’s mind raced.

  What in blazes...?

  He dropped low, tucking behind a stack of discarded crates.

  Three choices flickered through his mind:

  Behind the alley?

  Through one of the apartment windows?

  Desperately run forward for the street?

  Time was running out.

  The gunfire was getting closer and closer to him.

  He chose the second option.

  With no hesitation, Waldo lunged upward, driving his body through the glass. Shards rained down around him as he tumbled into the darkened apartment beyond.

  Once inside the apartment, he began running at full speed to escape.

  They had found him. The Goons were waiting for him.

  This wasn’t chance.

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  And there was only one person left in Rockville who could give him the answers he needed.

  He had a visit to make.

  The mayor’s office stank of pipe smoke.

  He was nervous.

  He sat hunched over his desk, signing documents in rapid succession.

  His fingers twitched. His breath hitched. His heart pounded like a war drum.

  Another drag from the pipe did nothing to settle his nerves.

  From the far corner of the room, a voice emerged like a blade through velvet.

  “You seem… troubled, Mr. Mayor. Pray, unburden yourself. I am all ears.”

  The pipe slipped from the mayor’s lips, scattering tobacco across the fine burgundy carpet.

  “Wa—Waldo! You startled me. I—I knew you’d come sooner or later, but not… not like this, heh…”

  Waldo narrowed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

  Waldo stepped from the shadows, adjusting his cuffs with deliberate precision. His gaze narrowed like a blade finding its mark.

  “Why did you do it, Mayor?”

  No denial. No excuses. Just clenched fists and a heavy breath.

  “I’m sorry, Waldo. I truly am. But it’s the only way forward. You either join them… or you disappear.”

  The mayor swallowed hard, unable to meet Waldo’s gaze.

  “I chose what I had to, for the good of the city.”

  Waldo shook his head slowly, as if the sheer weight of the mayor’s stupidity physically pained him.

  “And you truly believe… unleashing the Mafia upon Rockville will bring you freedom? You fool. You’ve not saved the city… you’ve signed its death warrant.”

  The Mayor let out a heavy sigh, his face pale with guilt.

  “No, Waldo. No, I don’t want this. But they promised… things. Things that only happen if you’re… eliminated.”

  The words had barely left his lips when the doors burst open with a thunderous crash.

  A dozen slime goons spilled into the room, weapons gleaming, faces twisted with malice.

  One of them stepped forward, grinning wide.

  “This is it, comrade. The end of the legend. Detective Waldo, finally outta moves. So many crimes solved… but ya couldn’t save Rockville, could ya?”

  The situation was dire.

  Waldo stood unmoved, brushing the dust from his lapel before adjusting his bowler hat with practiced elegance.

  “Dear gentlemen… today shall not mark the end of me. No, no…

  It shall mark the end of you.”

  How in blazes would Waldo escape this time?

  Stay tuned for next week's continuation of… Great Detective Waldo.