THE CHRONICLES OF FINALGAMER
Let's Hit The Road

"The law isn't perfect.  Neither are the people who've created it.  But it's been made with the endless effort to do good."
Soichiro Yagami, Death Note: The Last Name

Another awakening in what he expected to be a strange land.  This time however, he found himself in more familiar surroundings than what he had been through before.  Somewhere closer to what he wanted to see.  A brick wall, sturdious and dull as he laid in an alleyway, the smell of urine and garbage making him sneer in disgust.  Then he realised this was not something unusual as he awoke with a start, seeing a city around him, a city that felt like from his world.  Excitement ran through his body as he rushed out of the alleyway.  What he saw, was a little different from his Chicago.
Four-wheeled cars were everywhere in a neighbourhood he did not recognise.  Small planted trees and badly cracked sidewalks littered the place in a pathetic attempt to look not so crappy.  It looked a horrible slum area, one he was not unused to.
Some cars were broken into, others were just robbed of their wheels.  There was an air of carelessness throughout the broken streets and half-abandoned stores where only the hardiest seemed to stand guard.  He walked down the street, blinking at everything in curiosity, unsure of what to expect before he had to dodge a rather fast black and white car that almost swerved into him.  Even with his head still in a mess, he had enough outrage left in him to yell:
	"HEY, WATCH WHERE YER DRIVING, FUCKIN' BLIND BASTARD!"
The car stopped.  And then James realised it was a police car.  It turned around rather quick in a crazy screeching spin, and began to drive towards him as if determined to run him down.
Running would be pointless as he instead opted to latch onto the walls of a nearby convenience store and clamber onto the sign, the car slamming against the barricaded window underneath him.
	"Now whatcha gonna do, huh?"
The immediate reply was the car backing up and crashing into the store again, the sign shaking and nearly making the raptor fall off.
	"What the fuck, you crazy pigs!"
He had little time to react the next time as it slammed again to his surprise, as he soon fell on the bonnet of the car.  The cops quickly made their move to flail him with what felt like pistol butts, a sharp whack on the head knocking him duly unconscious.  The last thing he heard before blackening out was:
	"Hey he's got blood on his hands, let's make him squeal!"
	"Guess we should, li'l buddy..."

The next time he woke up, he found himself upright and rigidly tied to a chair with little wheels underneath, looking around to only see darkness.  Except for one light above him.  The faintest traces of objects could be made out around him, his claws in oven mitts, wrists bound by sturdy duct tape to make sure he couldn't escape.
Stepping out from the shadows were two creatures.  A brown canine wearing a scruffy yet dapper blue suit, rather like that of a detective along with a black-and-blue tie.  He wore no pants however, showing his thick canine legs and fuzzy brown feet.  His partner was some sort of small white rabbit who wore no clothes, grinning with a violent-looking mouth of sharp teeth, looking as if he was about to pounce at any time.  The dog spoke first, speaking in a stern New Yorker drawl.
	"Alright dino boy, where's the body?"
	"Wh-what?  Who are ya?"
	"Don't talk sass with me punk, we know yer a murderer!"
	"Wha-I didn't kill anyone!"
He knew this was a lie, but his instincts with police on the streets returned to him.
	"Oh yeah?  How do ya explain the blood on yer hands?"
	"What are you, a fucking street preacher, I didn't kill anyone cop!"
The rabbit interjected with an excitable voice.
	"He's not gonna tell us, let's mount his head on the wall!"
	"Too much work there li'l buddy," said the dog, "you know how much it costs to get the right plate and the screws for it?"
	"What about that coaster we use as a shield sometimes?"
	"Not Uncle Waldo's Coffee Shield, it's a priceless family heirloom!"
They looked at their captive with slight embarrassment as they remembered their mission, the dog continuing his interrogation.
	"We found traces of feline blood on yer hands thanks to a li'l CSI."
	"And we didn't even make a pun!"
	"We don't even wear sunglasses, Max."
	"Why not?"
	"We don't have the ears for it.  Now listen, you give us a body, and we give ya a cell for yer entire lifetime at no expense!"
	"Well other than yer entire livelihood an' probably yer virginity."
Realising who they meant, the raptor only gave a smug grin and chuckled.  He was in a whole other world and therefore, there was no way they would find his victim.

	"Ha ha ha ha ha...you'll never find the body, even if I wanted you to."
	"Really?"
The dog leaned closer with his expression remaining stern.
	"And why's that?"
	"It's a long long way from here in a place you'll never visit."
	"...France?"
	"HAH, no!"
Having a little fun in baiting the cops, he was not ashamed of his crime, and he knew there was no way they could ever find out where he was from.  Even if the dog and rabbit began a long guessing game.
	"Birmingham, Alabama?"
	"Nome, Alaska?"
	"Farley, Iowa?"
	"OOH OOH, Scotland!  It's in Scotland!"
	"Nope, nope, nope, and absolutelyyyyyyyyy nope."  The raptor chuckled eagerly.
	"Damn, we're stumped li'l buddy."
	"Lemme at him, Sam!  I always wanted to have dino feet for bookends!"
	"You don't read any books, Max.  Not since that incident in Barnes & Noble."
	"I'm still suing Dean Koontz for that!"
	"Oh yeah...alright, can we guess again please?"
	"Be my guest," said James.  Admittedly these two were making him smile.  There was something about their absolute lack of order or respect for proper rules and legislations, as far as he had seen anyways, that made him a little less confrontational with them.
	"Uhhhh Kathmandu, Nepal."
	"Bangladesh!"
	"Maybe Reykjavik, Iceland?"
	"Granada, in Espana!"
	"An interdimensional vortex in another world far far away?"
The last guess made the raptor try to jump up with shock.
	"....wh...HOW THE FUCK DID YOU-"
	"BINGO, we got a winner!"
The dog's guess made the two whoop and cheer around their captive as excitable as any gameshow contestant should be, one of them even pulling a switch for party streamers and balloons to suddenly fall down on all three.  The raptor was thoroughly confused by this police squad's interrogation methods.
	"So whadda we win, Sam!?!?"
	"Ooooh I hope it's a dead body, I've always wanted one of those!"
	"What about a speedboat?"
	"And risk getting lost on a crazy waterskiing adventure down the Potomac?  Yer nuts buddy!"
	"Uh, can I just say something?"

James couldn't help but ask in a small polite voice of shock, the two looking over to him with intrigue.
	"....how did you guess that?"
	"Well we didn't wanna mention it earlier as maybe some kind of irrelevant thing, but we also noticed some trace particles off of ya that are identifiable of a trans-dimensional subvortex that works like a warp engine between dimensions, possibly caused by the simultaneous action of the millions of nanobots in your body acting as one, in order to create an immense implosion effect that can tear a hole through the fabrics of space and blast you out of one dimension into another."
	"...That's impossible."
	"Well it was a lucky guess, what can I say?"
	"He's really good at these games," said the rabbit, "I never invite him for family party games!"
	"Max you don't have a family."
	"Yes I do, I got a son!"
	"You mean uhhh...John?"
	"Well ain't he family?!?"
	"And we never visit him!"
	"Well he never gave me his number!"
	"JESUS CHRIST SHUT UP!"
James was turning rather irritated at the two rambling creatures, now more angered and confused at how the lucky guess turned correct.  Then he had an idea come to him.
	"Do...you know how these warp things work?"
	"Not unless Quantum Leap was really a documentary."
	"Then goddamnit help me get home if you know how this works!"
	"No can do there my Mesozoic murderer, you still got a body to answer for!"
	"Oh please you never knew the guy and he was a fucking bastard."
	"Well I admit my rolodex is a li'l empty-"
	"-I put candy necklaces in it to shoot kids in the street with!" piped up Max.
	"-But that doesn't mean I don't know ANYONE.  So come on kid, tell me who it was."
Sam pulled up a chair, turned it around and sat on it, the headrest in front of him which he rested his hands on.
	"Maybe if we hear yer side of the story, we can waiver something."
	"Alright...his name was Bob...he was a purple cat who loved to manipulate people, but he made me think he was my friend...then he killed my girlfriend."
	"Oof, nasty."
	"So I hunted him down and slaughtered the hell outta him, then left the place before the guards could catch me.  So unless you know of a place called Crossville..."
	"Weeeeeeell there's Crossville, Alabama, then Crossville, Illinois or Crossville, Tennessee.  Which was it?"
	"...no way.  That can't be any of them, it was too clean-feeling, too...innocent."
	"Until you showed up maybe."
	"Hey hey I'm not the bad guy here, I KILLED the bad guy, you gotta believe me!  I even left a note to the guards about it all."
	"AHA!  A confession, Max!  Time we head out to Crossville, Illinois and bring this vengeful bereaved kid to justice!"
	"OOH, I'll get the eggs in case we drive by Peoria!  But uhh...why Illinois?"
	"It's the closest one, and we can get a view of the Great Lakes while we're driving smooth."
Sam grabbed the suspect without even bothering to take the chair off him, and with large heavy paws dragged him down the stairs from what looked like their office to shove the raptor into the boot of their car.  Upon much closer inspection, it appeared to be a modified DeSoto Adventurer with police tariffs and colours, complete with red light.
	"HEY, you can't put me in the fucking boot!"
	"Sure I can, look."
The dog slammed the boot cover down on him, leaving the raptor uncomfortably tied to a chair and in the dark, able to catch their voices as they got in too.
	"I dunno why everyone says they can't be put in the boot, they never seem to think a DeSoto can have that much space."
	"Tell me about it, I'm always hearing that from everyone I knew!  Hey Sam can I drive this time?"
	"On a day like this sure!  But only when we drop the kid off, I know what happens to the boot when you're driving."
	"Well how was I supposed to know a train would be faster?!"
None of this helped James as he was driven off to Illinois, left to wonder about how he'd be punished for his crime if they managed to even return to Crossville.  Was it even the same one?  Was he all this time just hopping around the world with people pulling a colossal prank on him for shits and giggles?

He felt confused and enraged, banging against the car interior with fury at everything he had been subjected to.  And if his fears were true of Crossville being in the same state as Chicago, he felt rather tempted to just say "fuck it" and go on a killing spree.
Letting his anger fester and swell as he screamed his heart out until he deafened himself, the car squealed along the streets towards Illinois.  Out of the city and through the states, the two police officers talked non-stop to each other about everything and anything that didn't matter, like the best of friends.
After trying to take a nap on the long ride to Illinois, the boot opened, and he was soon dragged out by the cops still tied to the desk chair to be wheeled towards the police station of Crossville, Illinois.  James smiled to himself.  It looked absolutely nothing like the town he had been in, which made him feel relieved.  A bustling place beyond more than six or so houses.  Entering the police station, Sam flashed his badge and stated to the receptionist:
	"Sam and Max, Freelance Police New York.  We got a suspect that came from here."
The receptionist, as well as everyone else in the station, was human.  And while she didn't seem freaked out by the dog and rabbit, she did flip her head at the sight of the velociraptor tied to a chair.
	"AAAH!  Wh-wh-what is that!?!?"
	"A velociraptor ma'am, apparently he killed a cat in this very town named Bob."
	"W-...we-well...there's never been a velociraptor here."
	"Claims the cat killed his girlfriend, uhh...what's yer girlfriend's name kid?"
James sighed with irritation and replied:
	"Daisy.  She wore a multicoloured dress and loved digging for fossils."
	"...ahhh one moment please."
The receptionist walked out to see her boss, the two captors gazing down on James.
	"Looks like it's another open-and-shut case for us, punk."
	"Another job well done," said Max, "but I hope they don't mind if yer missing a limb or two."
	"Hey yeah, then we can sell it to the museums with my wonderful sense of business acumen!"
	"Sam...please, don't ever say the word 'acumen' again."
The receptionist returned with a very nervous expression as she said:
	"Weeeeellll I contacted the proper authorities and they'll be coming to pick you up real soon, so just hang tight okay?"
	"Aren't you the proper authorities?"
	"We have a special person to deal with your uhm...suspect."
James became worried.  What if there was some kind of coincidence after all?  Also, the woman's expression was of pure fear, she looked frozen to the spot.  Testing her, he snarled at her to make her jump in fright, smirking at such.
	"Pffft hahahaha...jeez lady, lighten up, I'm not a psycho."
	"I think you're wrong."
And then she pointed to behind the three to see a few burly white-clothed men, who looked as if they were wearing doctor clothes.  They were carrying several white long-sleeved jackets with belts on each.  Sam was oblivious.

	"Ohhh right, the FME!  Gotta check him up right?"
James clearly knew who they were, and he knew very well what a straitjacket looked like even if he had never worn one.
	"Hey what's the big idea, I'm not insane!"
	"Insane?"
Sam was clearly confused but Max had wised up to this as he said:
	"Hey Sam, they're from that asylum they built after that Batman movie was filmed in Chicago!"
	"Which one was it again?"
	"The one where that Australian guy got an Oscar for being dead."
	"....nope, can't think of it li'l buddy."
He didn't have much time to think when all three of them were grabbed and wrapped up in jackets.  They were soon taken outside to be carted off in an ambulance, the two cops now really getting confused as they banged on the driver's window, bound up in the back.
	"Ahhh 'scuse me, we're Freelance Police, you got it all wrong."
	"Suuuuure ya do, detective."
	"No really, I got a license and a badge, check it out!"
	"Tell it to the nurse, just sit back and enjoy the ride."
The three, wrapped up in jackets, were now helpless to only look at each other as they were driven towards their destination.  After a short while, James asked defeatedly:
	"We're going to prison aren't we?"
	"Oh no no no no," said Sam as it all came clear.  "Just the Arkham Asylum."
	"Ohhh good good...wait ASYLUM!?!?"
Max sighed in irritation to reply:
	"Didntcha know they made that crazy house after The Dark Knight was filmed in Chicago?!?"
	"...uhm...no, I thought you knew I'm not from around here."
	"Well the mayor was kinda crazy and used all the tourist money to build an asylum like in those comic books on Northerly Island, over where Meigs Field used to be.  Honestly, it starts with an airport, and ends with an asylum, just like I always told ya Sam!"
Sam shook his head in pity.
	"Ahhh comic books, the seducers of the innocent.  It's as if everyone in 'em's either a deranged fountain of pop-culture references or a freakish loner."
	"So," added James, "...we're going to an asylum a crazy mayor built thanks to the comic books that a movie was based on and filmed in his city?"
	"Yep!"
	"...could be worse.  Could be a shady military organisation."
The raptor sat back and just let the ride go by.  Considering the times he'd had before, an asylum wouldn't be that bad.  And despite being arrested by these two cops, he was in the same boat with them now.  Perhaps they could at least bluff them out, they seemed to talk enough to do it with each other.

Soon enough they had rolled up to the gates of Arkham Asylum.  Rusty iron gates slowly creaked open to allow the ambulance inside, along a gloomy path curving needlessly up to the mansion-like building itself upon Northerly Island.  The epitome of the word "gothic".
A looming fortress of a place well guarded to the most extreme of levels.  Even the gates themselves had guards standing on the walls and against them too, as if the entire police force of Chicago was there, to which Sam questioned aloud:
	"Why would the entire police force of Chicago be guarding this gothically-built mansion when they could be stopping crimes in Chicago?"
	"I dunno Sam," replied Max, "but it sure explains why there's so much crime there now."
	"Tell me about it," added James as they were soon escorted inside.  But the ride stopped away from the mansion and around the back to where it seemed the main penitentiary was.  The three were strapped up with extra chains as they passed through corridor after corridor of extreme security, each new row of sturdy iron doors making the raptor more and more worried.
He had never really seen an asylum before, but he had been in prison once.  And this was way more secure than a prison, as well as more scary.  In prison you could at least reason with SOME of the convicts.
	"Alright, what's with these guys?"  Said the receptionist guard.
The entrance of the penitentiary was marked with the large sign of INTENSIVE TREATMENT above as their accompanying guard replied:
	"Claims they're two detectives who caught this guy, who says a cat killed his girl and she was, get this, a dog who loved fossils and wore pretty-coloured skirts."
	"HEY, WATCH YER FUCKING MOUTH!" snarled James as he tried to struggle free.  "You don't talk that kinda shit about her goddammit, she just DIED!"
	"Oh really?  When did she die?"
	"Two days back...maybe..."
Trying to remember made his head feel heavy, sighing as the receptionist just shrugged.
	"Jeez, what's with all the loons in this country?"
The raptor tried desperately to withhold his anger in how much they insulted Daisy's memory, as Sam piped up with:
	"I'm telling ya, we got badges, we're from New York City, ask the Commissioner!"
	"Alright then, Mr...?"
	"Sam."
	"Sam...what?"
	"Just Sam.  Come on, who ever heard of a dog with a surname?"
	"Fine.  What's the Commissioner's name?"
	"...heeeee doesn't have one, we just call him Commissioner."
	"Well we'll call him," said the guard untruthfully, "but right now you just gotta stay here until we sort the paperwork, okay officer?"
	"Sure thing!"
	"Oh for god's sake," ranted James, "none of us are crazy okay?!?  Except maybe the rabbit here."
	"Oh," said Max, "so having a penchant for casual ultraviolence, firearms and animal abuse counts as being crazy now!??!"
	"...actually yes it does."
	"Well if I had my Luger I'd give ya a li'l debate New York style!"
	"Max!"
	"What?!"
The guards all looked at the three with increasing worry, particularly upon the rabbit who they decided required special treatment, as they brought out a stretcher and tied Max down upon it.
	"Hey whaddaya doin'?"
Sam replied passively with:
	"Looks like they're considering you to be an extremely disturbed individual requiring the more potent, extremist and even controversial methods of psychological therapy."
	"Ooooh, kinky!"
And so the bunny was carted away and also gagged with a muzzle , before the dog and the raptor had all of their items taken from them.  They were soon transported down several more corridors and two elevators, all the while feeling ever more trapped like a mouse in a cage, before finally being put into a padded cell.

The asylum seemed incredibly oppressive, everything was either steel grey or rusted brown.  Pale moonlight filtered weakly through the smallest of windows and artificial harsh lights flickered faintly, irritatingly so.
The dog and raptor sat on the cushy cell floor, jackets on so tight they couldn't even shake them a little.  But they did have the freedom of their legs, which without arms to support, made things slightly more difficult.  James, seeing he had free time to Sam alone, asked him:
	"Can I ask something?"
	"Sure thing."
	"...are you really detectives?"
	"Oh now YOU don't believe me?"
	"I'm just real confused okay, help me out here!"
	"Then I can tell you without the slightest uncertainty in my medulla oblongata that I am indeed an outlying member of the judicial process of the city of New York, where it is my duty to detect, hunt, track, deter, arrest and even eliminate criminals to be put before justice, from common thieves to serial killers.  In one word, yes."
	"Oh good.  So...are we gonna like stay here?"
	"Oh no, we're gonna break out eventually."
	"Really?  You got a plan already?"
	"Nope, I just happen to know Max is a lot more...inventive with escaping than ya might think.  Plus he gets lonely, doesn't like being away from me."
	"Riiiight."
	"In fact I believe he'll come and save us in about...twenty minutes."
James looked with bemusement at the canine.
	"Uhhh...really?"
	"Well a high security facade of a prison like this, plus the fact Max was tied down with a muzzle on him, that's about four minutes extra, and we went through two elevator shafts, that's another five...yyyyyeah about twenty minutes."
	"How...can you even figure that out?"
	"He's my li'l buddy!  I know what he's like.  You never had a pal you know well enough?"
	"...once I did.  She was my best friend and looked after me, raised me practically like a mum."
	"Sounds a real darling."
	"Yeah, I know a lot about her.  I know her favourite drink was Jaegermeister, her favourite movie was Thelma and Louise, she hated classical music and loved soul music."
	"Oh sure that stuff is easy to know.  Being a detective and all it comes with the territory to know how people work, how long it takes them to go to the bathroom, how long it takes for them to wake up out of bed, how often they eat, and so forth.  Got anything like that?"
James pondered to himself for a while, with only one event in particular he had burned into his mind.  A few others came bubbling up to the surface, but he shook them away back into darkness.
	"...she would always take seven minutes checking the doors of the bar before it closed.  Always seven exactly, she had a system of closing the locks in the fastest way and I could never do it, probably 'cuz she memorised all the codes."
	"There ya go, when ya start knowing someone that well, that's when you know 'em well.  Anyone can find what your favourite colour is, but it only takes your closest to know how you do something exactly...or a good stalker."
	"Heheh, yeah.  How long is it until your friend arrives?"
	"Mmmmm...fourteen minutes I think."
	"Alrighty."

Seeing he had nothing else to do, he tried to wait for Max to arrive, at least according to Sam while trying to clear his head.  In the last week his once-peaceful year-long life in Crossville was destroyed, ending with his bloody departure within the next day, and only to end up in some alternate 21st Century New York and now in an asylum replicated from a comic book.
Yep, thought James, my life is wonderful so far.  I wonder what'll happen next, or if even I ever will get home back to my own Chicago.
His thoughts were interrupted however when his cell door was broken into.  And standing in the middle of the frame, was Max, grinning maniacally.
	"Hey there buddy!" said Sam with cheer.
	"Did I get to ya in time?"
	"Always pal.  What's with the lipstick?"
Max wielded in his hand a small red lipstick, which he proceeded to put on his lips to look horrifying to James, making him think of clowns.
	"Well I saw the film, maybe I could do a li'l cosplaying!"
	"Max, you know we're banned from conventions."
	"Oh come on, you gotta admit that Liefeld was asking for it!  What didya tell him at the time?"
	"I believe I said something along the lines of not being a fan of his work and politely questioning how he started on his great career.  And then he took offence at that and tried to stab me with a pencil."
	"You gotta admit, what we did was totally self-defence!"
	"Well at least he can't draw his own feet anymore."
	"I don't think he ever COULD, Sam!"
	"Anyways, didya find a way outta here li'l buddy?"
	"Mmmmmnope, but we'll find a way!  Come on!"
And with that, Max slashed through the straitjackets restraining his friend and their captive, the three heading further into the asylum to find a way out.