Something Immortal

The Canary

        Peter woke up in the morning wondering why he felt so happy. He usually woke up dreading the day ahead, but he wasn't this time. Then he heard voices downstairs, and remembered. Putting on his glasses, Peter rushed around upstairs, trying to put a shirt on while brushing his teeth at the same time. He held the toothbrush in his mouth as he buttoned up his dress shirt and tried desperately to tame his wild bedhead. When Peter finally decided that he was presentable enough, he walked downstairs where he saw that Aunt May was happily chatting with the Spider Gang as they sat at the kitchen table.

"Well, hello sleeping beauty!" Ham greeted him.

" 'Morning," he said softly.

"Peter!" Aunt May exclaimed, causing all three Peters to turn. "You never told me that there were more like you!"

"I just didn't think that you'd believe me," he explained, taking a seat next to Aunt May and Ham.

Aunt May huffed. "Peter, I'm raising you. There's a lot of unbelievable things that happen with you around."

He shrugged, chuckling. "Should've fig'red."

"So, Noir, what do you have to do around here?" Miles asked him.

Peter sat back in his chair, thinking. "Well, mostly just sightseeing. A lot of businesses are closing and there's some streets we should definitely avoid if we don't want to cause a hoo-ha. But we first need to think about how we're going to explain a talking pig. No offense, Ham."

"None taken," Ham assured him.

"You mentioned that you were going to need our help with something. What do you need help with?" Gwen asked.

"A dame by the name of Rosemary came by my office yesterday asking me to catch her spiv of a husband. The twit ran off with her grandmother's will and some expensive jewelry. Now, cases such as this are usually a piece of cake, but he apparently flew the coop. There's a canary that works in the Red Sailor that apparently was the last person to see him before he made tracks. But my gut is telling me that there's more to this story than just that minxy fox's tittering," Peter explained. "I went down to the Red Sailor last night, but the canary wasn't there. She's supposed to be working tonight, though, according to Buddy."

"I did not understand a single word that you just said," Miles admitted.

"A guy took his wife's money and took off and there's only one person that might know where he went," Peni summarized, grinning.

"Why couldn't you just say that?" Peter B. asked.

Peter sighed. "Well, at least someone was listening. Thank you, Peni. But my point was that we don't have to find the canary until tonight."

"Um...I think there's a problem with that. Exactly what is the Red Sailor?" Gwen leaned forward in her chair.

"It's a...club..." Peter began to realize the problem. "I get your point."

"Nothing that a bogus photo ID wouldn't fix," Aunt May said suddenly, causing everyone to stare at her. "What's the problem? You'd be using it for an investigation and you children need to have some fun."

Peter was trying his best to not laugh at the expressions on everyone's face. "Well, Aunt May, where would we even get bogus photo IDs?"

"You'll figure it out. Peter, can you go let the chickens out and feed them?" May asked him.