Max ran down the hallway while stealing glances over his shoulder. So far it didn't seem like anyone was following him. Most of the rioting seemed to be contained to the hotel lobby. Suddenly a chicken flew at his face and started pecking at him.

"Go away!" the chicken shouted. "Nobody's allowed down here!"

"Maurice?" Max said as he tried to shield his face with his arms. "It's me, Max! Stop attacking me!"

"Max?" Maurice said as he paused in his assault. "Sorry about that. You told me to guard the door."

"I appreciate your enthusiasm for the task, but you don't have to guard it from the person who asked you to guard it."

"I didn't realize it was you," Maurice said. "I just saw someone coming down the hall and I reacted."

"All right, well, you can put that on hold for a minute while we figure out how to get into the room without alerting the people that are staying there that their room is important. Glasses, you got any ideas?" He turned around. "Glasses? Hello? I swear, wasn't there some goofy chick with us? Where did she go?"

"I thought she was with you," Maurice said.

"I thought she was with you. You just can't find decent help anywhere these days. Oh well, we'll just have to carry on without her." Max went up to the door and knocked on it three times.

"Who's there?" a muffled sounding voice replied.

"Room service," Max said.

"We didn't order any room service."

"It says here that you did. Why don't you open the door and we can straighten this out."

"I told you we didn't order any room service, now go away. We're trying to sleep here."

Max heard the bolt lock on the other side of the door. "Okay, so they're not going to fall for the fake room service bit. How about a visit from hotel security? What did the guy at the desk say their name was again? The DuFresne family? I think that's right." He knocked on the door again and attempted to lower his voice. "Mr. DuFresne? Security. Open up please. We've had reports of a gas leak in your room and we're going to need you to evacuate immediately."

"You're not security," the voice said from the other side of the door.

"Yes I am," Max said.

"Where's your badge?"

"It's right here."

"No, it's not. You're not security."

"Am too," Max said.

"You're the room service guy from a few minutes ago."

"Sir, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm hotel security and I'm holding up my badge right now, as you would clearly see if you'd open the door."

"No you're not."

"And how would you know that?"

"There's a peephole in the door, you idiot! I can see you. Just like I could see you when you were pretending to be room service. Now go away so we can sleep in peace or I'll call the real hotel security."

"Yeah, you do that, mister! They won't come because they all know I'm a legitimate member of their ranks." Max stomped back down the hall to where Maurice was standing guard. "Also they're tied up with the riot in the lobby. They're not likely to come investigate a minor little disturbance down here. Heck, I could probably set off a small explosive and they wouldn't even come. Now there's an idea. Do you have any small explosives, Maurice?"

"No," he said with a shrug of his wings.

"That's it then. I'm just going to have to kick the door in."

"Or we could pull the fire alarm," Maurice suggested.

"That's true. They can't bloody well ignore a fire alarm, can they? They'll have to evacuate the room. And at the rate that mob in the lobby is trashing the place, there will probably be a real fire pretty soon anyway. This is a fantastic idea that I'm glad I thought of."

He found the nearest fire alarm and pulled the lever. The lights in the hallway started blinking as a shrill high-pitched beeping sound filled the air. Within a few seconds doors opened throughout the hallway and the occupants of the rooms began filing out with bewildered looks on their faces. The door to room 100 remained firmly shut.

"You've got to be kidding me," Max said. "Does this guy not care if his entire family burns up in a fiery holocaust?" A large pig in pink striped pajamas wandered groggily past. Max grabbed him by the shoulder. "Excuse me a minute, sir. Would you mind standing in front of this door for a moment while I hide behind you?"

"Uh, isn't there like a fire or something?" the pig asked. "Shouldn't we all be clearing out of here as quickly as possible?"

"Yeah, well there's a family in there who's racist against toads who won't come out even though they're in danger of burning to death. They won't listen to me because I'm a toad, and as I mentioned they're racist against toads, but I'm willing to rise above their petty hatred and bigotry to try to save their lives, because that's the kind of stand up guy I am. So if I could just talk to them while hiding behind you, maybe my pleas would get through to them."

"Or I could just ask them to come out," the pig said. "I don't see why we need to get all complicated and have you pretending to be me."

"Uh, I guess that's true. Would you mind?"

The pig gave a shrug and knocked on the door. "Hey dudes. There's like a fire going on or something. Everybody needs to exit their rooms immediately."

"Is this for real?" the voice said from the other side of the door. "You're not that room service guy again? No, I can see you're not. I guess we'd better come out."

The door opened and a family of toads filed out bleary eyed. Max ducked behind the pig so they wouldn't see him as they walked past.

"Hey, I thought you said they were racist against toads," the pig said.

"They are," Max said.

"But they are toads," the pig said.

"Them? No, clearly that was a pack of dirty stinking frogs if I ever saw one. The important thing is you did your duty as a good Samaritan and got them to leave. Thank you very kindly. Now you'd better get out of here so you don't burn to a crisp."

"What about you?" the pig asked.

"I'm going to stay here at great personal risk to myself and try to save as many lives as I can because that's just how I roll. A good day to you, sir."

"Whatever," the pig said as he turned around and shuffled down the hallway.

Max went to open the door, but it had closed and locked behind the DuFresne family after they evacuated.

"What the-?" Max smacked his face with his hand. "You've got to be kidding me! Well, I guess I'm for reals going to have to break this bad boy down." He backed up to get a running start and charged at the door. It swung open just before he reached it and he went tumbling into the room, barely registering a chicken standing in the doorway as he flew head over heels.

Maurice turned and blinked at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Max groaned. "What are you doing here?"

"I snuck into the room before the door shut so we wouldn't get locked out."

"Ah, yes," Max said as he picked himself back up. "You followed the plan perfectly. I told you to do that, right?"

"No, I figured it out on my own," Maurice said.

"Well, I was thinking it. You must have read my mind. I've heard a lot of chickens have psychic powers. Remind me and we'll go play the lottery after we've found the next clue to riches so vast we won't even need the winnings from the lottery. But we'll go win it anyway, because why the fuck not? Am I right?"

"Sure. But first we've got to find the clue, don't we?"

"Yes, of course. You start looking in the bathroom. I'll search the main room, starting with the mini-bar. And I believe I'll help myself to whatever I want in there since the bill will be going to the DuFresne family anyway." He quickly downed four mini bottles of liquor and gobbled some sort of fancy cookie he found in there. He didn't see anything that looked like a clue though. He started opening drawers, tossing the DuFresne family's clothes all over the room as he looked. Then he made his way to the closet and did the same thing.

Maurice came waddling out from the bathroom. "Nothing in there except a half-used bar of soap."

Max stood on top of the bed and studied the ceiling while he sent Maurice under the bed to look for clues.

"Nothing under there either except some giant dust balls," Maurice said as he emerged.

"It might be time to start ripping open the bed mattress," Max said. He dug around in his pockets until he found a small knife, which he used to start poking at the mattress.

Maurice glanced over at the bed legs. There were a hundred of them holding up the bed in imitation of a centipede. Something caught his eye and he squinted to try to see it better. "Hey, I think there's a letter C carved into this leg. And an L in this one next to it. And a U in the one next to that. I think it's spelling out the word clue."

"What?" Max said as he stopped sawing at the mattress. Let me see." He dropped down to the floor and peered at the bed legs. "Well, I'll be damned. There's an E on this leg here. It does look like it spells clue."

"And there are other letters on some of these other legs. I think we found the clue!"

"Where does the clue begin?" Max asked as he crawled around the bed trying to make sense of the writing. "And are they ever going to turn off this fire alarm? That sound is killing my ears."

After a few minutes of looking they determined that the clue started at the top left corner of the bed and wrapped its way around. "Many dunes must be traversed before the next clue slakes your thirst," Maurice read aloud.

"Could they be a little more vague with that?" Max griped as he sat down on the floor.

"Well, it sounds like sand dunes to me," Maurice said. "Are there any of those near here?"

"Yeah, there's a big old desert just outside of the city to the west. But it's freaking huge. This clue really doesn't narrow down our search very much."

"Slake your thirst," Maurice tapped his beak with his wing thoughtfully. "Is there an oasis in the desert somewhere?"

"I don't know. I've never gone out there. I'm not a fan of dry skin."

"Do you know anyone who knows the desert well?" Maurice asked.

"Hell no," Max said. "You think I hang around with a bunch of desert rats on a regular basis? Still, there must be those types hanging around in bars on the western edge of town. And as an added bonus I haven't been banned from those bars yet, since I never go over there. And for fuck's bloody sake, how long does it take to turn off a fire alarm? I think I'm suffering some permanent hearing damage here."

All of a sudden the high pitched beeping sound came to a stop and the room became eerily quiet.

"That's much better," Max said as he let out a yawn. "Now that it's a little quiet, maybe I'll lay down and get a little shut-eye. That bed felt pretty comfy. Oh, and would you do me a favor and bolt the door in case the DuFresne family tries to come back? Thanks, bud." Max laid down on the bed and was snoring within seconds. Maurice bolted the door and then settled down in an armchair and drifted off to sleep himself.

They were woken abruptly by a loud pounding on the door. "Go away!" Max shouted groggily. "We're sleeping in here."

The pounding continued relentlessly.

"Damn it, these DuFresnes are persistent, aren't they? The room's not yours anymore. Now get out of here!"

Suddenly the entire door flew inwards off its hinges and crashed against the opposite wall into a pile of splinters.

"Was that really necessary, Mr. DuFresne?" Max asked as he lifted his head up sleepily. "I'm sure we could have discussed this civilly."

A large figure completely covered in purple entered the room and surveyed the scene.

"Wait, you're not the DuFresnes. Oh no, not this guy again."

The figure walked over to the bed and lifted it up from the bottom. Then it flipped it over, dumping Max onto the floor in the process. It hoisted the entire bed onto its back and then walked out of the room.

"Well, that was just rude," Max said as he watched the bed disappear out of the door. "I've got to say, this floor's actually kind of comfortable though." A few seconds later he was snoring loudly again.

Maurice, in the meantime, hopped off his chair and waddled out of the room in pursuit of the mysterious purple figure.