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Chris the Watchfur was a real stinker. As if being a skunk wasn't enough, he was one of the ne'er do wells that lurked the streets of Reno looking for pockets to pick and purses to snatch. His nickname came because of the silver pocket watch he always carried around; it was fastened to a silver chain that could easily be seen hanging out of his vest pocket. True to his name, the Watchfur had a habit of swinging it around with a smug look upon his face. Sure, it wasn't the nicest watch around, but he had one and you didn't.

It was another Saturday evening and the sidewalks were thick with animals out enjoying the downtown nightlife. Chris patiently stood inside of a dark alley searching for his next victim among the throngs. It didn't take him long to find a mark. Across the street strolled a distinguished-looking older white tiger carrying a briefcase. While he was much larger than the skunk, the gentlefur appeared to be struggling with the suitcase's weight.

The white tiger stopped walking in front of the alley directly across from where Chris stood. He appeared to be winded, and began to set down the briefcase. The skunk saw his chance: he exited the alley and started crossing the street, quickly glancing both ways to look for traffic. Meanwhile, the tiger had set the briefcase down and was opening up his coat to retrieve a handkerchief. Chris took off running, and while the tiger wiped his brow, the skunk swiped the briefcase and dashed away with it into the dark alley.

The criminal ran for three and a half blocks before stopping. Confident that he had not been followed, he sat down on some steps to catch his breath. After jimmying open the cheap locks on the briefcase with the help of his switchblade, the crook opened it to see what ill-gotten gains could be found within. He was pleased to quickly find a money clip that held a few dollars and a ticket of some sort, both of which he pocketed. Continuing to search the case, he found nothing that caught his attention until he found a grey silk tie. It was of such high quality that even in the darkened alley, it appeared to shine.

Chris stared at the tie for a few moments. This will look great with my watch, he thought before he carefully draped it around the back of his neck and tied it. After disposing of the briefcase in a nearby garbage can, he exited the alley and started to walk down the sidewalk. He paused to check his reflection in a storefront window. Looking good, he thought to himself as he adjusted his tie and headfur. He then pulled out the ticket from his pocket and looked it over:

"Twee's Follies - An extravagant performance of music and whimsy.

May 2, 1921 8PM at the Empire Theatre"

Chris pulled out his pocket watch and opened it to check the time. The show was going to start in twenty minutes. He closed the watch and idly spun it around for a few times while he thought. The Empire Theatre was one of the nicest theaters in Reno, and tickets didn't come cheap. What the hey, it's a free show and I got cash for booze and smokes, Chris thought to himself before heading down the boulevard to the theatre.

Ten minutes later, the skunk was waiting in a line for the show. Chris was not as well-dressed as the other ticket holders and received more than a few stares from them. The crook scowled, ignored the gawkers and continued to wait in line, twirling his watch. He tugged at his tie; he was starting to get a little warm under the collar. He entered the theatre and walked around until he found the bar. He walked up to it and barked a request at the bartender: "Hey, Mac! Gimme a scotch on the rocks, and make it the good stuff!"

The panther tending the bar was surprised at the skunk's lack of manners, but poured him a drink nevertheless. Chris slapped a dollar on the bar and cheerfully told him, "Keep the change, Mac!" before taking the drink and walking away.

"Gee, a whole nickel. Thanks, 'Mac.'" The panther sardonically said to himself in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. Chris walked into the theatre and took a seat to enjoy the evening's entertainment.

The lights in the theatre dimmed. A spotlight appeared on the right side of the stage. A yellow-orange snow leopard in a tuxedo and top hat walked onto the stage and into the spotlight, which followed him as he continued across the stage and stopped at its center. He took off his top hat and bowed to the crowd. Replacing the top hat on his head he addressed them:

"Thank you for that gracious welcome to your fair city! I am Twee, and I will be your master of ceremonies for the evening. Our opening act features a fur of magic, mystery and mysticism. I give you Bartleby the Magnificent!"

The crowd applauded as Twee walked off the stage, the spotlight remaining at its center. Moments after he exited the left side of the stage, a plume of smoke suddenly appeared, eliciting a collective gasp from the crowd. The crowd applauded once the smoke cleared and a mature white tiger wearing a dark grey suit came into view. He bowed and addressed the crowd:

"Ladies and gentlefurs, please indulge me for a few moments as I begin my performance by imparting upon you a tale of woe. My briefcase was stolen during my journey to your lovely theatre. A cad pilfered my possession and deftly ran off into the shadows of the night, denying me the knowledge of his identity."

In the audience, Chris intently peered at the magician, trying to remember if he was the same white tiger he had pinched the case from earlier. No way he's the guy, the other guy was taller...yeah, that's it. He reassured himself before giving the silver tie another tug.

On stage, Bartleby continued his story: "While the thief may have escaped me, he shall not escape justice. Within the case was a special tie, sewn using magic silk acquired from the Orient. Whereas we rely on policefurs to bring criminals to justice, our fellow animals in the East use magic and mysticism to enforce their laws. My father acquired that tie many years ago when I was but a cub and so it has been passed on to me."

Chris nervously looked around the audience for policefurs. He found none, but was quickly becoming nervous and uncomfortable in his seat.

"The tie in question may appear to be a common article of clothing, ladies and gentlefurs, but it is in fact, alive, although not in the same way that we are. Just like a pet will bond with its master and his family, so had the tie bonded with my father and myself. Should any other person attempt to wear it without my blessing, it will slowly but surely begin to tighten around their neck until it snuffs out the unfortunate thief's life." The tiger said before putting his hands together as if they were going around an imaginary person's neck.

Chris took a sip of his drink. He tried to swallow, but had difficulty doing so because his constant fiddling with the tie had tightened it considerably. He was also beginning to sweat despite having nearly finished his drink.

"Thus, do the good people of the East keep their fellow animals honest. For what animal would want to wear an article of clothing that is not only stolen, but that might steal his very life?" Bartleby asked the crowd.

Wracked with guilt, Chris was now visibly sweating. The tie felt as if it was growing tighter around his neck and he started to hyperventilate.

Putting on a sad face, the tiger lamented: "I fear that I will never see my beloved tie again, ladies and gentlefurs. The fact that the thief will likely wear it to his grave offers me little comfort. Indeed..."

Having finally heard enough, Chris leapt from his seat and ran down the aisle toward the stage, tugging at the tie as he went. "HERE! I'M THE MUG WHAT STOLE YER CASE! GET THIS THING OFFA ME! I DON'T WANNA DIE!" he yelled. A spotlight fell upon him as he ran towards the stage.

The magician looked confused for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and pointed an accusatory finger at the approaching skunk. "See what your evil has wrought, criminal! The object of your desire has become your doom!" Bartleby stepped down from the stage and met Chris, who fell to the magician's feet. The crowd started to became agitated as the scene unfolded.

Bartleby raised his paws in an attempt to settle down the crowd: "Please be calm, everyone! Now that the filthy cur has confessed to his crime, I shall liberate him from his self-imposed trap." He bent over the skunk, examined the knot on the tie, carefully placed a single claw within the knot and deftly untied and removed it with a single swipe. Chris placed his hands to his neck and took a deep breath of relief. Bartleby carefully folded up the tie and placed it into his coat pocket.

The commotion had caught the attention of the theatre's ushers. Two dogs had started rushing down the aisle towards Chris and Bartleby. "Gentlemen! Take this miscreant away and summon the police." Bartleby instructed. The ushers picked up the now-relieved skunk and led him up the aisle. Meanwhile, the magician walked back onto the stage and stood at its center before addressing the crowd:

"Now that we have resolved that unfortunate situation, let the show commence, ladies and gentlefurs!"

After the show was over, the many members of Twee's Follies were congratulating each other backstage after another successful performance. A large muscular boar approached Bartleby and offered his paw. Bartleby smiled, took it and gave it a hearty shake.

"That was one crackerjack performance you put on to warm up the crowd tonight, Bart! Your plant did a real bang-up job." The strongfur said with a smile.

"Thank you, Hercules!" Bartleby replied. "I appreciate the compliment, but I cannot take all of the credit. That skunk wasn't the plant."

"Really?" asked Hercules, his eyes widening with curiosity.

Bartleby pulled the silver tie from his coat pocket. "Yes. That skunk was a real criminal. I haven't the foggiest idea who this tie belongs to."