Author: Crofton77

"You're joking right?" Sunny gasped.

"Nope."

"You mean the March Hill Crusaders are back?!" Sam yelped.

"Yup."

"And they're trying to take over the Council?" Daniel looked concerned.

"Absolutely."

"And REVOLVER and MARION saved your necks?!" TJ couldn't believe it.

"Believe it."

Chuckles and Giggles had returned to the hideout at the tip, and were instantly swamped by the Knights of the Last Order (minus Webster, who was still snotty with them).

"This is bad." Tammy sat back, thinking hard.

"You think? You wouldn't believe what they have. They have the Mystic Eight Gun and the Dragon Scale Scythe, which are like the nastier versions of the Lucky Seven and the Lions Claw." Chuckles pulled off his bandanas, becoming Charlie Begly again.

"The whatta?" Petunia asked.

"I didn't get it either." Belle shrugged off her Backpack. "Charlie knows more than me."

"I found out when I was in Awesomica that the Lucky Seven and the Lions Claw had cousins." Charlie went on to explain. "I ran into the guys who had the slightly inferior versions if you will – the Palatable Six Gun and the Stingrays Tail Whip. I guess that means there's more of those weapons out there."

"Hmmm…" Belle began to think. "I think I might have read about something like that in one of my history books."

"Are we going to hear about it all day every day for the next month?" Charlie asked dryly.

Luckily for him, Belle is too short to strangle him. Unfortunately, she could still kick his shins.

—

The March Hill Crusaders were back with a vengence. Over the next month they raided every bank in the city, attacked the school, robbed each of the shopping centres and antagonised the Death Valley Mobsters at every opportunity. Between the crimes and the gang-war, Chuckles, Giggles and the Noble Knights of the Last Order found themselves exceptionally busy.

"This is insane. I seriously don't know who I am some days!" Belle complained to her father. "Yesterday we helped the Crusaders stop the Mobsters from stealing some valuable paintings that were being transported through town, but the day before we were helped by the Mobsters to stop the Crusaders from killing the City Counsellors!"

"Be grateful none of the other crime families have come back." Peter said dryly. "I'm as confused as you are."

"At least there's no chance of them teaming up together, there's a LOT of bad blood between them; Master Revolver hates Crusader Mark with a passion, and Mobster Marion isn't that fond of Crusader Roger. I haven't even started with how much trouble Demon and Ruby are causing." Belle was slumped back on the couch next to her father, who was also exhausted.

"The return of the Crusaders has seen a spike in my work." Peter groaned. "I haven't had this much work since before the Mob and the DVG merged."

"Hey, you're just prosecuting, I'm prosecuting AND protecting the city!" Belle poked her father in the ribs.

"Well I'm prosecuting AND taking care of your scrawny arse!" Peter tickled her back, and the pair laughed.

Just then, Maddy walked in with Tate. She looked upset and Tate looked ropeable.

"Is Lara around?" Maddy asked.

"What happened?" Peter asked as Belle went to hug her friend.

"Webster happened. We had a fight. A really big one." Maddy began to cry. Belle sighed.

"Was it about you-know-who again?" She asked.

Maddy nodded. "He refuses to hear even the slightest bad thing about her, and if I try to talk about us he shuts down."

"This is getting beyond a joke." Peter shot up the stairs to get his wife, while Belle tried to comfort Maddy and the young Tate, who was still too young to understand what was going on, and what her namesake had done.

"Hey Tate, you wanna come and see my new scooter?" Ozzie came flying back down the stairs. Belle could have hugged him.

"Sure." Tate ran off after her older friend.

"I have the best little brother in the world." Belle grinned at Maddy, who smiled back.

"I have two older sisters and three younger brothers. They drive me insane." She tried to laugh. Soon Lara was downstairs and the three were digging into a bowl of ice cream together.

—

"THRUST! PARRY! THRUST! PARRY!" Yelled Daniel.

"I really don't think this is how swordfighting works." Sunny watched as TJ and Sam thrusted and parried respectively at the tip.

"I KNOW this isn't how swordfighting works!" Webster rolled his eyes. "You ever see Charlie restorting to this sort of tomfoolerly?"

"You are SERIOUSLY starting to get on my nerves." Petunia scowled.

"I honestly don't know how you guys aren't dead yet. Your weapons and armour are seriously flimsy and outdated, you have ZERO training and you don't take it seriously at all!" Webster groaned.

"We learned on the job. Best sort of training there is!" Tammy fired.

"We DO take it seriously, we just know how to have a laugh at ourselves!" TJ snapped.

"And our weapons have served us well thus far, why mess with the classics?" Sunny finished.

"No wonder Belle gets exasperated with you lot." Webster shook his head.

"At least she has a sense of humour." TJ frowned.

"Why do you even bother with us if you think we're so inferior?" Daniel threw himself up to his full height, which rivaled Charlie. "There's nothing forcing you to join us, you could easily do what Izzy and Lizzy did and form your own crime-fighting group."

"Because I thought you guys knew what you were doing! Instead, you're constantly getting your backsides handed to you requiring Belle and Charlie to come flying in to the rescue!" Webster groaned.

"Not entirely true, there's been plenty of occassions when we've jumped in to save their skins!" Daniel told him. "And we're the ones who kept this city safe while they were on hiatus!"

"And you did a brilliant job at that." Webster muttered.

"What's going on here?" They jumped at a voice coming from behind a pile of rubbish.

"Just this idiot being…well…an idiot." Daniel scowled at Webster, who sneered back as Belle and Charlie joined the fray.

"I wouldn't push your luck, Maddy told us what you said to her – telling her she's not your best friend and never will be was a low blow." Charlie frowned at Webster. "You seriously suck as a boyfriend."

"And this all because I won't marry her?!" Webster bit back, his face beginning to colour with rage.

"NO, because you're an absolute prick to her! How come you keep bringing up Tate? Didn't Pleasantville University get destroyed because YOU chose Maddy over Tate?!" Belle immediately launched into an offensive (well, the Masters Code does stipulate that a Masters shouldn't hold back). "Surely you would think that you loved Maddy enough that you wouldn't need to bring Tate up again every five seconds!"

Webster let out a low growl. They didn't understand. Tate had been more than just his friend, she had been…

"You don't know anything, so quit acting like you do. You're all still just kids." Webster turned on his heel and made to leave. Belle made to go after him, when her phone rang.

"You're joking right?" She said as Bill politely informed her that there was ANOTHER gang war going on over Lake Pleasant. "We'll be there as soon as we can. Got ya. Love you too!"

"Another turf war?" Sunny groaned as Belle hung up the phone. "Why don't we just leave them at it?"

"We try to, unfortunately they tend to pick battlegrounds where there's a wealth of civilians around for them to kill and injure." Belle shrugged off her rucksack and pulled out her Giggles attire. "Are you going to join us or are you sulking?" She scowled at Webster.

"I'm coming." Webster scowled back, getting his Sir Hedgehog gear out of his bag.

"Well, it's nice to know that we'll have team unity on our side." Charlie joked as he clipped on the Arm Scythes.

—

"Why is it when ever there's a turf war I seem to get caught dead in the middle of it?!" Peter Masters whined as a battle raged in the streets around him. He, Lara and Maddy were hidden under a market stall near the shores of Lake Pleasant.

"Chuckles and Giggles should be here soon." Lara said hopefully.

Maddy looked down. If Chuckles and Giggles were coming, then it meant the Knights of the Last Order would be with them.

Webster would be with them.

It was time. A time for long-held rivalries to be renewed. A time for long-forgotten battles to be re-fought. A time for old wounds to be re-opened.

"THAT WAS SO NOT OUT YOU CHEATERS!"

It was time for a game of cricket.

"Earth to morons, if you don't want to be run out, stay in your crease!" Sunny snapped at an irate Daniel.

"I WAS in my crease thank you, I was MILES inside my crease!" Daniel yelled back.

"Not from where I'm standing." Petunia piped up. "You were no where near it!"

"It was a run out fair and square!" Belle agreed.

"Of course YOU'D say that!" TJ glowered.

"What are you accusing us of?" Belle fumed.

"You're cheaters, plain and square!" Charlie stalked over from his wicket, throwing down his bat.

"Them's fighting words!" Sunny prepared for an altercation.

"You're on!"

"Are you guys seriously going to get into fisticuffs over a stupid game of cricket?" Webster looked amused at his younger friends.

"YES." Was the resounding reply.

"It's great to see that maturity is a pre-requisite for joining the Last Order." Webster rolled his eyes.

"Well go home then if you're too good for us!" Sam folded his arms. "Maddy says you haven't been around much anyway."

"And what would you know?" Webster frowned at the younger man.

"I might be going through a teaching degree and trying to save the city, but I can still make time for my friends and family." Sam replied snarkily.

"Sam has a point." Sunny agreed. "Patrick and I have a great relationship, we're even getting properly married in autumn."

"And we're going to be the bridesmaids!" Belle, Petunia and Tammy started dancing happily.

"So this is what this is about. You think I should give in and marry Maddy." Webster scowled.

"Mate, we just want you to start being a family with her again!" Charlie groaned. "It's been nearly five years since Tate was born-,"

"Don't." Webster snapped. Belle rolled her eyes.

"You are NOT still wrapped up over that petty criminal you used to call a best friend, are you?" She asked.

"Tate wasn't a petty criminal!" Webster was now fired up. He narrowed his eyes at Belle.

"Easy mate, Belle has a point!" TJ pointed out. "Sure she might have done a few good things, but that doesn't make up for the fact that she went completely psycho and tried to kill a University worth of people."

"She had a few issues but there was nothing that couldn't be fixed!" Webster protested.

"Why are you still protecting her? It's not like you loved her." Tammy said.

Webster grimmaced, before turning on his heel and storming off.

"I really don't know why he decided to join the Last Order, he really doesn't get along with us at all." Daniel frowned.

"He probably thought we were all scholars like Belle." Charlie rolled his eyes.

"It wouldn't hurt you guys to follow my example every once in a while." Belle narrowed her eyes at him.

"He'll figure it out." Sunny shrugged. "I know Patrick and I had a lot of issues when we first had Melody. Trying to balance being a Knight and a parent is hard work, and it took us the best part of a year to sort it out."

"Yeah, we remember." TJ smirked.

"Anyway, let's just ease off him for a while." Sunny continued. "He's only been a Knight for what, six months? Give it some time."

"I agree. Webster gets in moods sometimes." Belle added. "I lived with him and Maddy for four years, trust me, I know."

"If you say so." Petunia shrugged. "Now are you boys going to bowl or what?"

"THAT WAS NOT OUT!"

—

"WHY HASN'T HE ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM YET?!" Mobster Marion wailed.

"Will you stop it already?!" Daryl Jones groaned, sitting at his fathers desk, feet resting next to the monitor. "I don't know why your stupid boyfriend won't propose."

Mobster Marion pouted and flopped onto the sofa. "Where's your father anyway? My best henchmen are in prison and I want them out."

"He's busy at the moment with a few of his other projects." Daryl checked his phone.

"You're an absolute brat, you know that don't you?" Mobster Marion scowled at the younger Jones. "Tell Arnold when he gets in that I want to see him."

"Toodles." Daryl waved half-heartedly as Mobster Marion stormed out in a huff. He continued playing with his phone, not paying attention to anything that went on around him.
Suddenly, he felt a knife at his throat.

"Hello Daryl. You're giving the Ruby Suit to us." Said a voice behind him.

"Oh am I just?" Daryl grinned lazily. "You really think I'm scared of a  little knife at my throat when I've been on the wrong end of the Lions Claw Blade?"

"Given the Lions Claw is currently wielded by a simpering idiot, I think you should be paying the knife at your throat a bit more respect." The voice said, a note of anger coming through.

"I recognise you from somewhere…ah yes. When Marion tried to blow up the theatre, you declared her a psycho and left the Death Valley Mob." Daryl spun around in the chair, his foot narrowly missing his assailant.

"My name is Mark if you must know. Crusader Mark, to be more precise." The man stood up at full height, knife still pointed in Daryls direction.

"Crusader?" Daryl looked confused.

"You would be too young to know of the March Hill Crusaders, they've been underground since before your father was born." Crusader Mark told him. "We used to rule Pleasantville until the Mobsters of Misneach got too strong."

"And now you want your throne back?" Daryl smirked.

"If you don't mind." Crusader Mark smirked back.

"And you thought my father would give a damn if I was killed?" Daryl rolled his eyes.

"We just want the Ruby Suit. It's a powerful weapon, and too potent to be left in the hands of a moron like you." Crusader Mark told the young man in front of him.

"If you think insulting me is going to get me to hand it over, then you're wrong." Daryl put his feet back up on the desk. "Besides, I don't have it here."

"Liar." Crusader Mark pulled out a large revolver. Daryls eyes widened.

"Is that the Lucky Seven Gun?!" He asked warily. "How'd you get it off Giggles?"

"It is NOT the Lucky Seven Gun, as nice as it would be to have it. No, this is the cousin of the Lucky Seven, the Mystic Eight Gun. There are seven guns in total, each with a weapon of some sort as a brother." Crusader Mark rolled his eyes. "For example, the Lucky Seven and the Lions Claw are brothers. The Trinity Three and the Tigers Tooth Scimitar are another set, as are the Palatable Six and the Stingrays Tail Whip."

"So what's the brother of that one?" Daryl couldn't help but ask.

"Never you mind. The Ruby Suit please?" Crusader Mark cocked the gun. "I won't ask again."

"Nope." Daryl replied.

"Fine. You die then." Crusader Mark prepared to fire the Mystic Eight Gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Mark."

Crusader Mark groaned. Standing at the door was Demon Jones with a small posse of Emerald Mobsters.

"Who are you with?" Demon Jones glared at Crusader Mark.

"I've gone through enough exposition with your son, I'm sure he can fill you in later during a timeskip." Crusader Mark replied.

"Lazy." Demon Jones scowled. "Get out of my office."

"Hmmm…I think not." Crusader Mark smiled. "I quite like it in here."

"You're completely outnumbered and outmatched; what makes you so certain you're going to get out of here alive?" Daryl glared at his attacker.

"You REALLY think I came in here alone?" Crusader Mark began to laugh. "I have Crusaders throughout the building, there's no way I'm leaving without the Ruby Suit."

"And I told you, I don't have it here. Even if I did, you'd never be able to get it off me." Daryl replied coldly.

"So be it." Crusader Mark pointed the Mystic Eight Gun at Daryls head. "Good-bye Daryl."

Daryl flinched as a gunshot rang throughout the room. Crusader Mark screamed.

"It's YOU!" He pointed at the now broken window, his other arm now dripping with blood.

"Yeah, it's me. You're lucky I know people who work here Demon, otherwise Daryl was a goner." Standing in the broken window frame stood Giggles. "It seems the March Hill Crusaders have taken over the building."

"Well, I never. Giggles coming to save little old me." Daryl sneered at Giggles, who replied by flipping him the bird.

"I'm here to make sure no one gets killed." She aimed the Lucky Seven Gun at Crusader Mark.

"Oh really?" Crusader Mark aimed the Mystic Eight Gun back.

Downstairs, Peter Masters was hiding under his desk as Crusader Roger stood with the Dragons Scale Scythe against Chuckles and the Lions Claw Blade.

"So you're the ones who murdered all those people over 90 years ago." Chuckles glared at Crusader Roger.

"That was my great-grandfather." Crusader Roger said proudly. "It wasn't like YOUR little 'protest' last year where you all escaped. WE made sure that Damon and Pythias didn't live to continue to cause trouble."

Chuckles growled angrily. His hands gripped the Lions Claw Blade tightly.

"You're out of your league Chuckles. Why don't you just drop your weapon and scurry off home where you belong?" Crusader Roger continued. "I might even be inclined to let you live if you do."

Chuckles ran at the Crusader and swung at him with the Lions Claw Blade, but it was blocked by the blade of the Dragons Scale Scythe. "I'll never surrender, I'll fight until the end."

"How cute." With the slightest of movements, Crusader Roger blocked another blow from the Lions Claw Blade. "I'm sure your bravery will be remembered…for a little while."

Chuckles continued to try and get a blow in, but Crusader Roger was far too smart and strong. Upstairs, Giggles was having the same problems with Crusader Mark.

"If you could actually HELP that'd be great!" She snapped at Demon Jones, who shrugged and continued to polish his boomerang.

"I'm too busy enjoying the show." Was the reply.

Giggles cartwheeled out of the way of another bullet. The Mystic Eight Gun seemed so much more potent than its smaller cousin, it might have been completely psychological but Giggles was hopelessly outclassed.

"And THIS is why you don't take on those who are better than you!" Said a voice that Giggles could scarcely believe was coming to her rescue.

"Master Revolver?!" She yelped.

"Marion!" Chuckles cried as Mobster Marion blocked a deadly blow from the Dragons Scale Scythe with her sword downstairs.

"You're out of your league kiddo, get your little buddy upstairs and get out." Mobster Marion warned, an iciness to her voice that Chuckles had never heard before. "My forefathers wiped these punks off the map and I intend to do the same."

Chuckles stepped back. He didn't want to hand this fight over to his sworn enemies but it didn't seem like he had a choice.

"You've done what you've needed, you've saved the innocents, now GET OUT." Master Revolver growled at Giggles. "This isn't your fight."

Giggles groaned, but she knew he was right. She quickly flew out of the building and tapped on one of the downstairs windows. Chuckles motioned to Peter and the other Council Workers.

"Come on, let's get out of here." He said. They all rushed out of the doors, where Giggles grabbed Chuckles and they flew off to the tip.

The morning of the protest dawned clear and calm. At the crack of dawn both boys were up to do their chores before heading out for what they believed was the turning point in the history of their city.

"Just promise me you boys will be careful." Thomas Masters said to James as the family sat down to breakfast.

"We will. We'll be going as Damon and Pythias. That should discourage anyone from trying to attack." James helped himself to another slice of bread and butter.

Meanwhile, Peter Begly was having a similar conversation with his son, Frank.

"Any sign of danger and I want you to promise me you'll come straight home." Peter warned as Frank drank his milk.

"We promise." Frank agreed.

The pair met at the scrapyard, where they changed into their disguises and headed out to meet the crowd – and their destinies.

"Did your father read you the riot act too?" James asked as he pulled on his black pants.

"Yeah. Anyone would think he didn't have two other sons to carry on if I was lost." Frank chuckled, putting on his blue shirt.

"I have three for the old man to fall back on, although I don't think Lachlan really subscribes to the family ethos." James mused. "He's never had the Improbability Clause used on him, and I don't think he knows any of the rules from the Masters Code."

"A Masters who doesn't know the Code? That's a bit worrying." Frank raised an eyebrow. "Montague Masters wrote the Code because of his violent tendancies, which he got from his father."

"That's MAURICE Masters, Montague was the Begly, but that's just a legend though. I mean, I've never had any violent urges in my life." James pointed out as he tied on his scarf to finish his transformation into Damon.

"I guess so." Frank laughed, putting on the hat that finished his transformation into Pythias.

—

"WHAT DO WE WANT?" Yelled Damon.

"A SAFE CITY!" Was the reply from the slowly increasing crowd in front of the the Mayors office.

"WHAT WILL MAKE OUR CITY SAFE?" Yelled Pythias.

"COUNCIL RESPONSIBILITY!" Was the cry.

"For the last 90 years our Council has sat in the pocket of criminals and scum, letting them terrorise this city and those who live here!" Damon cried. "We won't let this city become overrun with corruption, the time to stop the rot is now!"

The crowd cheered.

"You really know how to give a good speech." Pythias grinned as Damon took a breath.

"That's because I'm educated." Damon smirked.

The front doors of City Hall opened, and out walked the Mayor.

"What is the meaning of this disturbance?" He asked coldly.

"We're sick of the underbelly this city is fostering!" Pythias replied. "We're sick of criminals hurting people and either getting let off or getting piss-weak sentences!"

"Or even the state of Pleasantville Correction Centre, anyone would think you WANTED to allow criminals to walk out of there without any worries!" Damon added. "And it's the same crims every time, the ones who are paying you and keeping you in your snug little office!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The Mayor replied coldly, and getting jeered and booed by the crowd for his trouble. "I will now ask that you move along, you are creating an unlawful disturbance."

"We're allowed to protest!" Damon retorted.

"You two are known for your violence and insufferability." The Mayor pointed out. "How do I know this protest won't devolve into something more sinister?"

"We've left our weapons at home. We plan to do this peacefully." Pythias opened his arms to show that the Lions Claw Blade was no where on his person. Damon copied him, to prove that he didn't have the Lucky Seven Gun etiher.

"So be it. I will not be held responsible for anything that goes wrong, you hear?" The Mayor scowled before stalking back to his office.

"Believe me, nothing is going to go wrong." Damon grinned.

—

Several days later, the protest was still going. Many people had left in boredom, and tempers were starting to rise.

"This ISN'T working." Pythias groaned as another small group of people left, leaving only 48 people and the two cowboys.

"Trust me, it will work. The Mayor is starting to crack, believe me." Damon insisted.

He was half-right. The Mayor WAS starting to crack. A government representative was going to be visiting in the next few days, and if the protest was still going then questions were going to be asked. It could very well mean the end of his time in charge of the city.

"You're the highest power in this city." The Mayor looked out of the window of his office at the crowd below. "They fear you, as they rightly should. That's why I called you in here."

"And what do I get out of it?" Crusader Roger scowled, his arms shackled – after the attempt at stealing the wagons, Crusader Roger had been captured by Pythias, who had tied him up and left him for the sheriff to deal with.

"A pardon, of course. For you and your men." The Mayor turned to the angry criminal. "Get rid of them."

"You have yourself a deal, Mister Mayor." Crusader Roger grinned.

Outside, Pythias was talking to another protestor while Damon was stalking the front of the crowd.

"We've almost got them. I'm certain we do. They can't just ignore us." He muttered to himself.

"Who says we're ignoring you? A bit stupid to do this unarmed, don't you think?"

Damon and Pythias spun around. In front of the Council building stood Crusader Rodger and over a hundred of his Crusaders.

"We're protesting peacefully. You have no right to be here." Pythias said, but his voice wavered slightly. Each of the Crusaders held a shotgun in his hands, and they were all pointed at the crowd.

"What are we going to do?" Whispered one of the protesters.

"We're staying here." Damon glared into the eyes of Crusader Roger. "He'd never fire on an unarmed group, and even if he did, he'd be finished within the hour."

Crusader Roger laughed. The colour drained from Damons face.

"Don't you get it you fool?" Crusader Roger pulled out his own pistol and aimed it at Damon. "The Mayor is the one who ordered us to do this."

A look of pure horror covered Damons face, before Crusader Rogers bullet went through his heart and ended his life.

"JIMMY!" Pythias screamed, before his head was blown off by another bullet. The Crusaders had begun firing on the crowd, who were sitting ducks. Some managed to start running, but they too were easily mowed down.

After the dust cleared, nothing was left of the protest but bloodied, dead bodies.

—

"And it was after the massacre that Lachlan Masters, fuelled by his rage, formed the Death Valley Gang." Belle continued to explain. "He kept the Lucky Seven Gun for himself, and traded the Lions Claw Blade to the Mobsters of Misneach for help in destroying the March Hill Crusaders."

"Damon and Pythias." Daniel mused.

"The forerunners of Chuckles and Giggles." Sunny said.

"Yeah, only they didn't have the luxury of seven Noble Knights of the Last Order behind them." Sam pointed out.

"And luckily, we don't have to deal with the March Hill Crusaders." Petunia shuddered. "They sound brutal."

—

In a small cabin just outside of Pleasantville, two men were meeting.

"I can't thank you enough for giving me this job." One said to the other. "After I stormed out of the Death Valley Mobsters in the middle of a job, I thought I was done for."

"Not at all." The other replied. "Your information has been beyond helpful, not to mention your skill and experience as a criminal. They were foolish to let you go."

"Well, I think Revolver was too concerned with what his psycho girlfriend was plotting, not to mention it's kinda hard to shoot a man in his jocks." The first man laughed.

"Either way, I'm glad you're on our side for now." The second man got up out of his chair and poured two glasses of whiskey.

"It's admirable that you and your people have managed to stay hidden for so many generations." The first man accepted the glass of whiskey from his co-conspirator.

"To our return to power." The second man lifted his glass in a toast.

"To your return to power." The first man grinned.

"She's reading AGAIN." Charlie rubbed his temples.

"Your best friend has a hobby. Big deal." Sunny shrugged, sitting at Bills resturant trying in vain to feed Melody without a major mess.

"What's she researching this time?" Tammy asked, sipping her thickshake.

"She's found out that the two ringleaders of the protestors who were slaughtered 93 years ago were none other than James Masters and Frank Begly." Charlie slumped down next to Sammy, who offered him some chips. "So now she's wondering what else our family has been involved in."

"Sounds interesting." Webster said, taking a mouthful of beer. Sunny frowned at him.

"Where's Maddy and Tate?" She asked.

"At home." Webster replied shortly.

"Why aren't they hanging out with us?" Sunny pressed.

"Because they're at home." Webster scowled.

"Shouldn't you be at home with them?" Sunny continued her onslaught.

"I'm a Knight of the Last Order as much as you are. Where's Patrick then if you're being so high-and-mighty?" Webster shot back, annoyed.

"At work, he's been putting in extra hours due to the destruction wrought by the DVM." Sunny replied triumphantly. "We're going out for a family dinner tonight when he gets home."

Webster didn't reply, he just glared at his beer like he wanted to kill it.

"Is there something up with you and Maddy?" Sam asked innocently, earning a thwack over the head from Tammy and a kick in the shins from Sunny.

"It's nothing." Webster got up. "But if you guys don't want me around, I'll piss off."

"Webster, don't be like that!" Tammy tried as Webster stormed off. On his way out, he shoved past Belle, who looked super-hyper-mega affronted.

"What happened?" She sat down next to Sunny, dropping a small mountain range of books on the table.

"We were just wondering why Webster isn't spending much time with Maddy and Tate." Sammy said, rubbing his sore shin and head.

"Oh, that'd be because it's coming up to the anniversary of when his friend Tate offed herself." Belle said with all the sensitivity of a dead cod fish. "Plus Maddy's been a doing a bit of a Mobster Marion and started talking about marriage."

"And you know all of this how?" Charlie looked sceptical.

"Because I talk to people and do my research, dumb-dumb." Belle smirked back.

"I thought Webster adored Maddy?" Tammy asked.

"He does. But he misses Tate too, especially around this time of year." Belle sighed, thinking back to her own part in the whole affair, nearly getting herself killed out of pride.

"What's with the books?" Sunny asked, remembering her own part in what had happened and feeling awkward.

"I've been looking up James Masters and Frank Begly." Belle replied brightly, making Charlie groan.

"You're not going to make me hear this story AGAIN are you?" He whined.

"Stick a cork in that whine, this is our family history we're talking about!" Belle snapped.

"I wanna hear the story!" Sam decided.

"I do too!" Tammy grinned.

"Why don't we all go back to my place? The others can meet us there and we can all hear it!" Sunny beamed, cleaning up Melody.

"Swell." Charlie muttered.

—

"So, we all ready?" Daniel asked the next night.

The group were all sprawled out over Sunnys lounge room, all in their pyjamas, some wrapped in blankets, the lights low.

"This will be interesting." Maddy snuggled into Webster, who smiled weakly.

"Only the first sixty-nine times." Charlie scowled, sitting in the window frame, looking out over the creek.

"Let's get started!" TJ grinned, sharing his popcorn with Petunia.

Belle felt important.

"It was 93 years ago, when the DVG didn't exist and the Mobsters of Misneach were only a very minor player in Pleasantvilles growing underbelly…"

—

Pleasantville had just celebrated her 100th birthday. To celebrate, Crusader Roger of the March Hill Crusaders had decided the time was ripe for a heist. A small convoy of wagons carrying gold from the mines that lay north of the city was heading that way, and the March Hill Crusaders wanted to get in first before the Mobsters of Misneach, the Silent Lake Gang, the Light Reach Gang or the Hidden Fear Crew heard about it.

It was early one Monday morning when the convoy was meant to shuffle through. They were going to stop to refresh their horses and supplies before heading off again. The plan was to steal the booty while the drivers were busy.

Alas, the March Hill Crusaders hadn't planned on the crime-fighting hero duo Damon and Pythias coming to spoil the party.

"Hi Roger! Why are you hanging around those wagons for?" Damon asked as Roger approached the stationery wagons, ready to call his men over.

"YOU!" Crusader Roger growled. He glared at the cowboy in front of him, who wore a black hat, a red scarf over his face, a red flannel shirt, black pants and carried a very strange-looking gun that he dubbed the Lucky Seven Gun.

"Yes, me. Me Damon." The cheeky hero replied. "You wouldn't be after the cargo of these here wagons would you?"

"Never you mind that!" Crusader Roger felt for his own pistol. He wanted to get this over quickly before any of the other crime groups showed up. "You get out of here before I call my men."

"Oh wow, like THEY'LL do anything." Damon rolled his eyes.

"Especially if I have anything to do with it." Said a voice from behind Crusader Roger. Suddenly, he felt his pistol fall to the ground, still in its holster.

"Pythias! So glad you could be bothered to join us!" Damon grinned at his best friend.

Pythias smirked. "Why would I let you have all the fun?" Pythias was dressed almost identical to Damon, only in blue and white instead of red and black. Instead of a gun, he held a long, five-foot blade that was called the Lions Claw Blade.

"I am warning you two. Let me go and get out of here. You wouldn't want to be here when everyone else gets here." Crusader Roger warned.

"Well, you can discount the Light Reach Gang, Gangster Steven is still out with a broken jaw." Pythias pointed out.

"I really should apologise for that." Damon mused.

"Yes, you should." Pythias agreed.

"That still leaves the Mob, the Silent Lakers and the Crew." Crusader Roger grimaced. Why oh WHY did these two INSIST on incessant babbling?

"Well, I dealt with Mobster Michael on the way here, so he won't be showing up." Pythias said. "By the way Damon I wouldn't go near Misneach Manor anytime soon if I were you."

"Why?" Asked Damon.

"I might have insinuated a few things about you and Michaels wife."

"For the love of-! Will you two can it already?!" Crusader Roger roared furiously.

"Are you going to leave these wagons and their cargo alone?" Asked Pythias.

"Nope." Was the snappish reply.

"Then we're not leaving until you've been brought to justice." Damon replied with a nod.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the March Hill Crusaders. Looks like you've got your hands full there Roger."

Damon grabbed his gun. Crewmate Theodore and his men had arrived to claim their share of the booty.

"Damn this! Where are my men?! They should have stopped you!" Crusader Roger roared in fury.

"They're busy dealing with the Silent Lakers. So we thought we'd bypass the crap and get straight to the treasure." Crewmate Theodore casually explained. "Now move."

"Nope." Damon and Pythias replied together.

"Then so be it." Crewmate Theodore growled. "FIRE!"

Crusader Roger fled the scene in a rage while Damon and Pythias hid behind the wagons.

"Get out here you little cowards!" Crewmate Theodore cried.

"Well, this has gone well." Damon sighed as Pythias quickly poked his head out from behind one of the wagons, nearly getting it blown off.

"No big deal, we just wait here until the drivers come back and then we help them escape." Pythias brushed his best friend off.

"Pythias, the Crew are advancing on us, we have NO way of holding them off, the drivers are probably inside scared stiff after hearing the noise and you want to – PYTHIAS!" Damon cried in exasperation. He grabbed the Lucky Seven Gun and fired at the feet of the Crew while Pythias opened the gate of a nearby cattlepen. The beasts, happy to have some room to move, stampeded out towards the Crew.

"Oh I am going to SLAUGHTER him when this is over!" Damon growled to himself, eye twitching. He quickly ran into the saloon where the drivers were hiding.

"Here's our chance to get out of here, let's go!" He beckoned for them to follow him. Keeping an eye out for any criminals, Damon led the drivers back to their belongings and went with them to the city boundaries.

"You're safe now. Whatever you do, don't come back here!" Damon warned as the last wagon made its way over the ridge.

"Trust me, we won't!" The driver of the wagon assured the young cowboy. With a flick of his whip, he set his horse to a trot and it wasn't long before all Damon could see of the convoy was a trail of dust.

Sighing, Damon made his way back to the scrapyard, where he knew Pythias would be waiting. Sure enough, when he got there Pythias had already shed his disguise and emerged as Frank Begly.

"Before you yell at me, I managed to get all the cattle back into the pen, so no one is losing out." Frank chuckled at the look on his friends face.

"You could have been killed – AGAIN." Damon pulled off his disguise to reveal James Masters.

"I swear Jimmy, I'll never get myself killed. In fact, it'll probably be you who gets me killed!" Frank laughed. "How would that be for irony?"

"Irony and coincidence are not the same thing." James scowled.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot you're all educated now." Frank teased. James couldn't help but grin back.

"You're an idiot." He punched his friends shoulder.
"How are the plans for tomorrow anyway?"

"Ready to go." Frank replied. "Graham and Jack have managed to get about 20 people who are sick of the direction this city is going in. They've all agreed to a sit-down protest outside of City Hall."

"Perfect." James replied. "If we include the 60 people that I managed to muster, that's 80 people who will be protesting with us."

"You really think this is going to work?" Frank asked as the pair headed home.

"I know it will." James smirked.