"Miss Prim-! Miss Prim! You have to wait downstairs-!"

"Shut yer yaps! I almost died just walkin' here!" Her high heels clicked against the floor as she powered forward, ignoring Blubs' concern. "You got guys snoozin' all over the place, jerkin' themselves off to me down there, an' you want me to wait? Bullshit! I know your type! I'm not gonna have some sleeve put their hand up my dress before I've even filed a case , damnit!" Her blue hair shook as she whipped her head around to glare at him.

"B-but these two are very busy right now!" Bulbs confirmed. "They've got too much on their hands to help you at the moment! Please, let's talk about this down stairs. I've got a few detectives who'll be happy to-."

"Those guys are a bunch of third rates, and you know it! You said these guys are the best of the best, right? Why d' I gotta yap it up with those bozos, when I can just cut right to the chase?" The woman turned around fully now, making the chief shrivel up defenselessly as her glare burned him.

" Because , Miss Prim, we've got them assigned to one of the most sensitive cases in our files. Please, let's talk about this somewhere-." Bulbs made a move towards her, trying to use his wide hand and place it against her back to guide her towards the elevator. The second he made a move even suggesting he was going to touch her, she became defensive and harsh.

" Don't touch me! " Bulbs' face became pale at her bare aggression. "You men . Just- ugh! Listen to me for, like, two fuckin' seconds, aight?" She whipped around to face us. "You the guys that hate each other?"

" Miss Prim! " Chief Bulbs reprimanded her. She only put a hand up, raising a single finger towards him without meeting his gaze. And, from that small gesture, something began to click. I know her from somewhere...

"Heard you two are pretty good at solving cases an' shit. That true?"

"Um..." I began looking at Chief Bulbs for hints on what to do. Was I supposed to refuse her? She was being a difficult little ass, of course. It was probably most appropriate to order her away, and I knew damn well what a passofist the chief was. There was no way he had the balls to kick her out himself. I'd have to do it myself. But... In all honesty, the Bill Dilemma was going nowhere. We didn't have any new clues or hints on the case, and just sitting around, doing nothing was annoying as shit. Something in me nagged at my hungover brain, begging me to take the bait.

Come on, Pine tree. Just a taste.

I shoot my head, clearing my thoughts before addressing her.

"You could say that." The disappointed look on the chief's face was enough to doubt my decision, but I'd already tempted myself with it. I moved behind the desk, stretching my arm out to introduce myself. "I'm CSI agent Pines. This is my partner, Angle." Bill gave me a look, making me sigh heavily. "Call him Bill." The woman took my hand with a confident slap, shaking it heartily.

"Nice ta' meetcha. Prim. But, my stage name's Sunny ." She introduced herself with a newfound brightness, as though to taught the chief with how agreeable she'd become in that moment. Sniffing haughty, Bulbs put his hands on his hips, sprouting a grumpy look that was nothing short of comical.

" Stage Name? " Cocking a brow up, I slowly slid my hand from hers, letting Sunny move on to Bill's. The smirk she shot me was almost perverted. "Where do you work?

"You ever been down at Doe town? Ya' know, past that new burger joint that just opened up?" I made sure not to let on that I was completely shocked at what she'd just said. Hell yeah I knew what Doe town was. Pacifica and I had gone there once as a joke, right between barely buzzed and black out drunk. It was a red light district.

"Oh." I said simply, looking anywhere but her, my mild embarrassment flush against my cheeks. Sunny barked a harsh laugh, head tilting back before snapping forward to look at me.

"Damn right, ' oh!' I'm one helluva stripper back home."

" Whaaaaat? " Bill's mouth fell open with the dopiest, most ridiculous expression of admiration he'd ever given, looking both stunned and amazed. His grip tightened, now shaking her hand briskly, like he was meeting the president for the very first time. "Weird! That's so weird! " He said it like it was the highest form of praise achievable from the human race. By the way he refused to stop shaking Sunny's hand, it probably was.

"Alright, alright! You've had your laughs !" She pulled her hand away, unaware of how genuine Angle's praise was. "I didn't come here for chit chat, mack. I got a complaint to file, or whatever the hell you highends call it."

"We just call it bitching up here." Bill smirked, nudging me in the side with a grin. I didn't respond to his humor, eyes trained on Miss Prim agonizingly. God, I swear I've seen that girl somewhere.

"Well, then I'm here ta' bitch, 'kay?"

"'Kay. What's the scoop?" Bill asked. She sniffed, shooting the boss a look to leave for this part, whatever it was she was going to tell us. It looked as though he was going to say something, opening and closing his mouth as his brow furrowed endlessly. Finally, he lowered his head, grumbling as he made his slow journey towards the elevator door. Bulbs pressed the down button with a sulking finger, dark shades shielding the outright betrayal he felt in that moment of cooperation. There wasn't much to be done about it now that Bill and I were interested. The chief stepped in, giving one final look back in a plea of favoritism, but to no avail. Sunny waved him goodbye pleasantly; vigorously. The doors slid closed, and he was gone.

"I can't find my bitch." Sunny said finally, leaning up on my desk with a sigh.

"Your-... What?" I looked over at Bill to get some kind of confirmation from him, but he was too busy soaking up her wonderfully abnormal persona. Chances were, his well tailored ass didn't go around partying it up with junkies and shut ins and whores and pimps. Not that his personality wouldn't fit in. His newly polished dress shoes might have something to say about it, though.

"My bitch. You know... My hoe. My GF. My main woman."

"Is she... property? " Okay, so she's probably doped off her ass right now.

"My best friend, dumbass! Jesus, don't you guys use slang here?"

"We prefer using our words." I shot, eyes growing lidded at her tone. I definitely knew her from somewhere...

"Whatever." Sunny scoffed, combing a hand through her ratty, unwashed bob cut. She leaned up from the desk, popping her hip as she glared at me with a hostile gaze. For a moment, she looked as though she would say something, only to think better of it, looking away. Her eyes darter towards the window, an intense strain washing over her features before looking back at me. "I feel like I know you from somewhere..."

" Right ?!" I burst without thinking.

"You'd think I'd remember a twink like you, huh?" The worst part was hearing the seriousness behind her tone. She meant every word of it. "Eh, fuck it. I'll figure it out. Anyways, I'm here to hire you guys to find my girl. Kimbery; Stage name Kitty, got it? Tall, latino, likes long stockings and margaritas-."

"Wait, wait, wait. One at a time , lady." Bill chuckled. "Where's the last place you saw her?"

"Hell if I know, bear. She went everyone. You'd usually see her on Pet street- that was her corner, ya know?"

"Usually." Bill repeated. Sunny nodded.

"Yeah, usually. She got this really nice gig up on third, though. A real top shelf establishment called ' The Red Cross.' "

"What? As a blood donor?" Bill joked.

"Nah. It's one of them queer strip clubs. For the boys, right? They called Kitty up to be a bartender, 'cause the clientele got too handsy with the male servers, an' of course she said yes 'cause 'aint a damn girl out there dumb enough to turn down honest work when you live in a glorified whore house . I do' know... It's not crazy for a girl like her to want a real job with all them slobs droolin' over something without tits. Kinda refreshin', actually. But-. Somethin' seemed off with the place."

"What do you mean, ' off? '" I asked, leaning in on my desk.

"Well, shit. For one, the owner's a real creep." She said.

"Who's the owner?"

"Some fuck face in his thirties who thinks he's the shit. I don't wanna talk about 'em. Threw me out whenever I tried asking around for Kitty. Said he didn't know 'er."

"Sounds like something someone would say is he did know her." Bill offered, moving his hand to his pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, sliding a stick from the box before placing it on his lips.

"You got smokes? Mind bummin' me a roll? I've been jonzin' since this morning." Sunny held out her hand expectantly, waiting for him to relinquish the box to her. He obliged peacefully, happy to offer up his shitty habit to yet another sad addict, only for my hand to block her path.

"What the fuck is with you guys and smoking? Jesus, am I the only one who thinks it smells like ass?" Sunny only whistled at me, cracking a grin.

"Damn, agent Angle. You'd better get your twink under control before he flips his lid. He talks like a rogue... Are you an ex slut? Of course! That's where I know you from!" Sunny acclaimed confidently, eyes blown wide with realization as she clapped her hands together, mouth falling open as though solving the case. But, I knew damn well that was definitely not how we knew one another.

"What the fucking hell?! Who in the-?!" I was close to tearing into her, only for Sunny to cut me off.

"Wait-. Ugh, no . That's not right... Ah, shit. I'll figure it out, I swear." She put her finger on her chin, pondering her choices. "Well, damn. I just can't remember-."

"You know what? Let's just drop it for now, okay ?" My eyes were cold and burnt, my face slapped with the most fake, most uncomfortable grin I'd ever given.

No Dipper no fighting in the office keep it together be cool she's not worth losing your job over.

"Good idea, hon."

"So, what'd this Kitty chick look like?" Bill asked, cutting in. He lifted his hand, placing it firmly on my shoulder as a sort of comfort. As if to say, ' You'll get 'em next time, babe.' I shrugged him away.

"Caked in makeup. Real thick in the ass, if you catch my drift. Big boobs. She had some work done back in the day, so she's all plastic. Probably find 'er in a McRonald's kid's meal if you tried." Sunny snorted, shrugging her shoulders. "Likes to dress real scankish when she can. It shows off all that cash she coughed up for the surgery."

"Alright." I began, looking down at the notes I'd scribbled up for her description. "So, we're looking at..." Literally ninety percent of the red light district. "Um, so what about ' The Red Cross?' You said she worked there for a while?"

"If you call six days a while. What can I say? She left at nine; got back before the sun rose. It's closed during the day, so she's got all the time in the world to do whatever afterwards."

"And, the last time you saw her was at work?"

"Nah, last time I saw 'er, she was chattin' it up with the boss."

"Of The Red Cross?"

"Yeah. Might've been tryna sleep herself into a raise or some dumb shit like that. What a bimbo. E'rybody know's he's a nancy."

"A... Nancy?" I asked, stiffening at her mocking tone. Sunny only laughed.

"A nancy, yeah. You know, a friend of Dorothy? A real queen. A poof . A wonk . An Invert ." I remained confused as Bill nudged me with his elbow. He leaned over, just inches from my ear before speaking softly.

"He's gay, Dippy."

" Very. The guy's a James Charlies-."

"Okay, I get it! So, Kitty disappeared after that?"

"Mmm-hmm. Just- Poof! Vanished. No texts. No money. No nothin'. Her pimp's been goin' batshit about it, screamin' 'bout how she snuck off with his cash an' shit. Won't let nobody sleep 'til he finds 'er. Got a price on 'er head, too. Lotta doe's goin' into the search."

"Are you apart of the search?" I asked skeptically. This was getting closer and closer to human trafficing by the minute, and prostitution's already illegal.

"Oh, hell no! Look, I'm tight for cash, but not tight enough to do that cockshit's bidding. Kitty's a friend, 'ight? I just wanna make sure she's not dead or kidnapped or some shit. The dumb bitch hasn't taken me out for a drink in forever, it feels like I've completely sobered up by now."

"How long has she been missing?" Bill questioned, trying to sneak his lighter up to the base of his cigarette. Without looking his way, my hand met his lighter, lowering it away from the stick.

"About a week. I tried talking to the police about the whole thing, and they're sayin' a bunch o' whores go missin' at ' The Red Cross.' "

"And, what?" I asked.

"And what? I'll tell you what: They don't give a shit. The place 's flooded with gals like us. One babe goes missin', another doll face'll run away from home and shake her ass in their place. It's science."

"Well-. Well, it's really not. But, I get what you mean: The police aren't doing anything in Doe town, so you want us to go in and investigate." Sunny nods her head vigorously, eagre for us to start our search.

"When can you get started? You drive me, I can pointcha in the right direction 'n shit." She offered. I only raised my hand at her.

"Uh, no. That's okay. We can just look it up." Her face fell a little, though it retained its overall hardness. The look of hopeful fear was just barely cloaked by her rough exterior of determination, anger, and boldness. Sunny looked harsh, with dark glazed eyes and a set sneer she refused to let up, almost radiating a similar frequency as Wendy. Emplified, more aggressive, more horrible. Almost masculine. If I squinted my eyes at her, she might have even looked appealing.

"And the time? When can you get started?" I looked back, sucking in a breath at the clock that ticked behind us.

10:32 AM

"We can... During lunch. We'll get started at 12." I assured her, pulling that time out of my ass.

"The club doesn't open 'til 9 PM."

"Okay, uh-. That would've been nice to know in advance, but-. Sure. Nine. We'll start looking at nine, then." I shifted my stance, soles going numb as I stood heavily on the pads of my feet. Not that there was much to do outside of sitting in a slump of theories over Bill, who was probably flying off to Japan or Russia under the false allies of something dumb like Billy Triangle by now, but I really wanted her out of the lab. She flared up my headache like nothing else.

"What'll you be wearing?" Sunny asked cautiously, eyeing me over with something reserved. Unsure. Like maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

"Is... There something wrong with wearing our uniforms?" I looked at the elevator door longingly, tired of this confusing interview. I just wanted to sleep off my hangover now. But, I couldn't do that without Bill getting up my ass about it.

"Not it you don't mind hundreds of cop-haters pouring their drinks all over you an' refusing to serve ya. Look, the cops in our part of town-." She paused, mulling over her word choice with a head roll. "Eh... They're shit. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think all cops are shit. But, those cops. God damn. Shit bags. An' a lotta people don't got the right image of law enforcers now 'cause of 'em."

"Then, we'll go in as customers." I offered. Sunny just tutted her tongue.

"What'd I tell you before? The place is high end. They only let the top dogs in."

"What's a ' Top Dog' supposed to mean in a gay strip club?" I rolled my eyes, huffing heavily as I crossed my arms.

"Pimps and their pieces, 'course. It's more like a place o' business, if I'm bein' real. ' The Red Cross' is for tradin' in favors. Showin' off merchandise, if you know what I mean..." Sunny's voice trailed off, eyes trained on the space just below my chin as she spoke, where I'd unconsciously loosened my tie. It exposed a tiny bit of skin, revealing the shameful composition of a complete lack of hair, as well as smooth, milky white flesh. I brought my hand up, clasping the loose fabric in an attempt at cover.

"Merchandise..." I worded mindlessly, already knowing what she meant. Prostitutes .

"You got a problem with that? It's a career choice, dolly." She remarked. I only stood there, combing my brain for some kind of solution to this whole mess. To get in without being noticed, but still getting in good with everyone... Can't be a cop. Nobodies aren't allowed in. But, playing the part-. No, Dipper. Just-. No.

"Are there... Any job openings? "

"For an undercover cop? Sure. They lost a couple o' strippers last week. The pole's free to use if you've got an ass."

"Oh, he does. He definitely does." Bill nodded his head, laughing as I stomped on his toes hard enough to hurt my own heel. Sunny didn't seem to mind, even leaning over the desk to get a peek.

" Hey. No kiddin'-!" She whistled.

"Jesus Christ, people! I'm not whoring myself out for this!"

"Oh, don't be such a pussy ! Who knows? Pole dancing might be the life for you." Sunny teased.

"No!"

"Oh, come on-!"

" NOOO!" I crossed my arms over my chest, only to slash them outwards in a sign of finality. Nope. Never. Not happening. Mom had always worried about Mabel when it came to poles; I didn't want her worrying about me, too.

"Alright, okay. Fine. But, look here doxy: You either get on the pole, or find yourself a pimp, 'cause you're not getting in otherwise."

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Let me just get on Rent-A-Pimp.Org real quick." I snarled. "Why don't you be the prostitute and-."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I've already got a job down at the ' Chicken Strips,' and if you think for one second I'm sellin' my soul to anyone else, you're crazy. Besides, it's a gay strip club. An' unless you're willin' to pay for a sex change, I'm off the menu." I was stunned, stammering mindlessly as her words sunk in. Hell no. Hell no. Hell no. Hell no. Hell no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

" B-but- !" I tried to fight it, putting my hands up as I defended my case. God, I was bored at work, but not that bored! There was no way-!

"Hey, listen: I-. I'm losin' a friend, man. Shit, I get it's a lot to ask, but I'll pay you, I swear. I've got a whole buncha cash stored up under my mattress for situations like this. An'-." Sunny paused, giving me a weighted look. Heavy eyes, sad, looking at me with a pathetic plea. "I usually don't say this, but please don't pull out. I need your help here." Once again, I stammered, hoping to find some kind of excuse, some kind of alternative for this case, but nothing came to mind.

"Uh-. Well..." I lifted my head to look at my partner who was snickering endlessly at my situation.

He knows damn well who the pimp's gonna be. Goddamn it. Fuck him.

Bill smiled, offering me the barest of winks before addressing Miss Prim.

"You wouldn't happen to own anything in his size, would you?"