Good Bye, Good Riddance? |Henry Danger|

79

Tess

"She was not 'just a moth!' I raised Lucille myself from moth-birth! Of all my thousands and thousands of hungry moths...she was my favorite." I called it. They're behind it. It's too much of a coincidence for it to not be them.

"Favorite!"

"Uh, dude--"

"I am so sorry." Uncle Ray!

"Can we talk to you for a second?" Hen and I slightly drag Uncle Ray away from the two men with the dead moth. 

"I had no idea." That makes the men yell at us. 

"I had no idea. She's in a better place now." 

"Hey dude? My guy?"

"Uncle Captain!" 

"The big lamp in the sky."

"M'boss, m'boss, m'boss."

"Uncle!"

"He's grieving, man, what?" 

"M'boss, m'boss."

"Uncle!"

"What? What?" 

"Are you think what I'm thinking and what Tess has pretty much already figured out?"

"Yes. We should help them pay for the moth's funeral." I face palm. My uncle, the clueless one!

"What? No!"

"That's fine, we'll just put it on the Man Card and then dispute the charges, I do it all the time. I was gonna do it for the trees any--" Of course, my uncle the cheapskate. 

"Listen to me! These guys are shady, okay? They got all the trees that didn't die. They're from Yerba."

"Hey, we're all people."

"Not the point." 

"And they got thousands and thousands of Yerban moths."

"Yeah but, you can say that about anybody." Uncle Ray is seriously not getting the clue as usual.

"No, you can't. These guys released all those moths on purpose so they'd kill every Christmas tree in Swellview."

"Why would they do that?" 

"'Cuz then everybody would have to come to Neighborville and buy their trees at jacked-up prices!" That's a frighting look on Uncle Ray's face. 

"That face when I'm about to save Christmas with my fists." 

"Hashtag Season's Beatings." 

"Hashtag Merry's Fistmas."

"Pound sign pound time."

"Okay. Here's the plan."

"Hashtag listening." 

"You pretend to drop your phone."

"I can do that."

"Okay, and while they're utterly baffled at your sloppy phone-handling..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah?" 

"We pull out our laser remotes, and force them to admit their guilt, and then we just walk them to the Neighborville Police Department." This plan is not going to work at all or at least not in our favor. It never works out like we plan. 

"Hashtag on board." 

"Hashtag not going work!" I hate that I said hashtag before I said it. Hen and Uncle Ray start to walk over to the two men. Again, why do I even bother with giving my two cents when they don't listen to me most of the time?