Ahhh, the suburbs. It was a setting like no other; the rich smell of fresh cut grass was complemented by the stiff scent that comes from the sidewalk just after it has rained, and the sun has come out to dry it up. He imagined himself in the fifties, in a 'Leave it to beaver' kind of community, perhaps walking a dog, wearing a nice fedora. It was a mode of life all right; one that he might appreciate were he not so spontaneous. The giant cockroach walked down the street in tune with his simple life fantasies, having to remind himself that he was here for a reason once more.

All around him were the sharp contrasts of green lawns in juxtaposition to the warm colors the houses they surrounded were painted. He walked lazily past one particular house, painted a soft yellow, that was of a particular importance to him; he was careful not to dwell for long. The house had quite the surveillance system.

He had his own system, though... As he passed a small cockroach crossed his path, and then stepped up his leg, making his way up to his shoulder, where it began chittering in his ear. He nodded slowly. "So, everything is ready, then? You have found all of the cameras, and know where the objective is?" A clack came in response. "Good, good... Sometime I what I would do without you, Frankie." He gave the little cockroach a pat, resisted the urge to pop him into his mouth and chew for a bit, and then continued past. He had it all planned out. His cousins would cut all of the security wires just after he created an innocent diversion outside, after that, Frankie and his team would grab the press plate, and they would get out of there. "Now remember, 62316. We want the one with that serial code, and none other, alright?" the roach chittered, ran in an anxious circle, and then nodded its little head.

Good... Everything was set up... Now, for the distraction. What to do... what to do... He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a man walking his dog, just as he himself had fantasized about moments ago... It was perfect... He was in the mood for a snack, anyways.

Minutes later a call came into the local police station; it was a frantic man screaming about how some jerk had just eaten his dog, and wouldn't fess up to it.

“Wha-COUGH! Wheeeez!” Jorge nearly choked as he spat out the half piece of chewed doughnut from his mouth and grabbed a bottle of water that sat on his desk.

Damn those villainous rainbow sprinkles.

He struggled to hold the phone receiver to his ear as he coughed at the same time. Jorge had not been with the MRC for long, but he had his experience of mutants both in Florida and here in New York. He’s seen everything ranging from ghost-like mutants to some that looked as if they were part cyborg, so it was easy to see that he had the experience to say that he had seen-it-all. What he heard on the phone was something that was completely new to him and, he had to admit, just a little gross.

When he finally calmed down his coughing fit, Jorge tossed the doughnut aside as he turned back to the phone in his hand. Quickly he pulled over a notepad and jotted down an address, as well as any other information he would need. Apparently a description was not to be required.

Once he hung up the phone, Jorge stuffed his notepad into his coat pocket and slipped it on. Just as he was doing this, another one of the officers arched a brow and chuckled at him.

“So why’d you nearly die? Get someone pregnant?”

Jorge flipped the officer a rude gesture then shook his head as he wiped crumbs from his mouth before he started out of the office. “Trust me, Clemens, there are some things left unsaid.”

Minutes later the detective found his way into the car, still trying to comprehend what the caller on the phone had just told him. Apparently there was a mutant related incident demanded immediate attention. The operator had informed him that a man in panic just called in and said that someone had attacked his dog. But not only attacked, devoured it in front of him. Now…this is New York. There are always strange stories floating around about the type of people you’re libel to meet, but this was unlike anything the detective had heard of yet. Not only had this mutant eaten this dog, but he looked like a giant bug.

Jorge could not make heads or tale of the situation as he pulled out of the precinct’s parking lot and headed off towards the address he was given.

Not Much Later…

The red and blue flash on his cars emergency lights could be seen far down the street. So far people had already been drawn to what happened and appeared on the scene or glanced out from closed windows. The detective had no problem finding the scene in this picture perfect, Norman Rockwell-esque setting. There was already a squad car on the scene who had responded to the emergency, they just needed the MRC to pull in and talk to the mutant in question. To be honest, Jorge was not one to throw stones, but deep down he really was not looking forward to this. He had already tangled with one were-bug in his lifetime, the giant scorpion woman from his first day in New York. Now he had to deal with one that ate dogs?

Still, Jorge had to be unbiased with this. He was a detective for the MRC after all and every mutant had the right to tell their side of the story. The thought made him smirk slightly though. What possible reason was there for needing to eat a live dog?

This was going to be a hell of story to hear.

With a whine of the sirens to scatter any onlookers, Detective Cervantes pulled up to the scene and parked near the squad car already on the scene. As he stepped out, he could already hear the crying of the man who had lost his beloved pet and the shouting about what was going to be done. Sensing the situation was going to get worse, Jorge quickly made his way around to an officer who was trying to calm down the man.

“Detective Cervantes, here,” he said as he flashed his shiny gold shield and stepped up to them. “MRC. What seems to be the problem?”

The man, a well dressed, neatly trimmed middle aged gentleman with eyes filled with rage had been saying the same thing over and over for the last three hours. He was angry, he was tired of repeating himself, and he missed his god damn dog. Why wasn't this #$^#ing bug squashed against the pavement yet? Why was he in hand cuffs too? And why the hell was yet another freaking cop asking him what the problem was?

"What's the problem? What's the $#%^ing problem?! That freak over there-"

"I take offense to that si-" Roach chimed in from his sitting position, his four hands cuffed together.

"No you shut the F%&# up bug boy or so help me god I will-" He took a deep breath, looked to the new cop, and decided to say it one more time, but if someone asked again after that he was going to freak out. "I'm walking skippy, my yorkie, like I do every day; I don't use a leash, skippy was a good boy, he always stayed by papa. Well, I turned to check the mail, and a car swerved past. It distracted me, but when I turned to see where my dog was, I see this.... this disgusting thing eating my poor sweet doggy... I knew it... I knew that if I moved into a freak friendly neighbor hood something like this would happen. I should have stayed in Jersey."

"If I may interject," The giant bug chimed in. "The animal was dead when I found it; I was merely making sure it did not go to waste." Greg nodded confidently, as if this some how made everything okay.

"That's bull! You killed him! You killed my dog!" The man stood up, trying to move in on the prone Roach, who merely looked to the cops around to see if they would stop him.

>> "I'm walking skippy, my yorkie, like I do every day; I don't use a leash, skippy was a good boy, he always stayed by papa. Well, I turned to check the mail, and a car swerved past. It distracted me, but when I turned to see where my dog was, I see this.... this disgusting thing eating my poor sweet doggy... I knew it... I knew that if I moved into a freak friendly neighbor hood something like this would happen. I should have stayed in Jersey."

Skippy? Papa? inwardly Jorge rolled his eyes at this. So the man was going to be one of those types. The guys who place everything they love and own into their dogs. Yeah, Jorge loved his own dog Lizzie, but there was a limit. What it also told him was that the man was going to be difficult to deal with. It was obvious he cared a little too much for his dog and by doing so he was going to be close minded and very prejudice against the mutant he was accusing.

It didn’t help that the mutant was being nonchalant about this as well.

>> "If I may interject…the animal was dead when I found it; I was merely making sure it did not go to waste.”


>>"That's bull! You killed him! You killed my dog!"

“Whoa, whoa!” Jorge immediately jumped in as the “victim” in this story made a beeline straight for the Bug-mutant who had been accused of eating his dog.

To be honest, Jorge understood the feeling. If his own dog had been eaten by a mutant, whether dead or alive, he would want to tear the person apart too. But that was not something that should be done in a normal society. So, being the upholder of the law that he was, the detective had quickly put himself between the attacking man and the mutant. Quickly he shook his head as he directed one of the officers to come over.

“Get outta my way!”

“Listen to me, we don’t handle things like this. You get to take the law into your own hands. Now go sit over there and wait for me. Go on.” he said as sternly as possible.

For second it seemed like the man would not move but before he knew it, he was being gently led away by another officer who had already appeared on the scene. He shook his head as he watched him go and wondered where to take this from here. It was obvious that one person was lying and the other was telling the truth, and normally in these situations he was more inclined to take the side of the person who was the more cool-headed. But this situation did not seem to warrant this. As he turned to look at the roach-mutant who sat off to the side, he had to admit this would be hard to get to the bottom of. After all, even he did eat the man’s dog after it was already dead, he had no right to do that.

Jorge sighed as he walked over to the handcuffed mutant and knelt down in front of him. Normally Jorge was not afraid of bugs and he was thankful for that ever since he came to New York. First a were-scorpion and now roach-boy? What was next? Someone who could spew out insects at a whim? He snorted silently at the thought as he flipped open his notepad and glanced at a dog’s leash that lay not far from him.

“So…the man accuses you of eating his dog alive, and in front of him? Care to tell your side of the story? The truth perhaps?” he asked as he jotted down a couple of notes.

"Ahh, A reasonable ear, at last." Gregory perked up a little bit, looking down at his cuffed arms. "I would shake your hand, but alas, I am restrained. All limitations aside, though, I must insist that I have told nothing but the truth. The dog was deceased, by no fault of my own, before I ate it. I was feeling rather peckish, and I knew that the man would most likely just waste the meat, so I ate it. This is not an offense punishable by jail time. Perhaps he could take me to court over it, but I doubt it would be worth the time."

The roach nodded confidently as he spoke, but paused after finishing that thought. He tilted his head just a little bit, and turned to Jorge. "My name is Hubert Hazleroth. May I know your own?" The Roach knew he hadn't told the whole story yet; that wasn't his objective here. What he really cared about was having cops outside of this house for as long as possible. A quick glance to the window confirmed that there were two sets of eyes glancing out of it. He was sure that with cops outside, internal surveillance would by the last thing on their minds... He was sure his cousins had already cut the camera feed by now. He clacked his maw a few times, and turned back to the detective. His eyes drifted down to the collar in the man's hand.

He got the urge to wear it as a hat... Perhaps with the man's hand attached. That would definitely get him a nice spot in jail, though... humans were so touchy about things. He wondered if this one would also be surprised that he was well spoken. Most people expected him to hiss and skitter away. Sometimes he humored them, but he wasn't of the mind to right now.

>> "I would shake your hand, but alas, I am restrained. All limitations aside, though, I must insist that I have told nothing but the truth. The dog was deceased, by no fault of my own, before I ate it. I was feeling rather peckish, and I knew that the man would most likely just waste the meat, so I ate it. This is not an offense punishable by jail time. Perhaps he could take me to court over it, but I doubt it would be worth the time…My name is Hubert Hazleroth. May I know your own?"

“Jorge Cervantes, nice to meet you Hubert.” he said as he relaxed his posture a little. “Seem to have gotten yourself into quite a jam here.”
So…the Roach-boy had a more eloquent tongue than he would have guessed. Jorge had to almost chastise himself for thinking that because the truth of the matter was that such things tend to happen. Just because a mutant looks rather odd on the outside, that does not mean they do not have an intelligent bone on the inside. In many ways that reminded him of himself. Very few people would make the connection that an experienced police detective also had a love and endearment for early female British literature! It was just one of those surprises that managed to find its way into every man, woman and child.

The detective had to sigh a little inwardly though as he jotted down the mutant’s statement. He admitted to eating the dog, but the problem was still that…he ate a dog! Normally such a thing might simply fall on a social faux-pas but in this situation it could be considered something akin to desecration. He ate the dog in front of its owner so it did not matter if it was already alive or dead.

Touchy situation and Jorge did not like it one bit. Though he was only a recent addition to the MRC a few months ago, there was still the idea that he had seen pretty much anything. That couple with being a veteran police officer, he had his fair share of strange call-ins. But this one seemed the take the cake. What was there to do, what could he very well do?

Finally he just shook his head.

“All right, um, looks like I’m going to have to take you in for further questioning Mr. Hazleroth. Whether or not the dog was dead when you got here is irrelevant. I’m going to have to let the rest of the people down at the precinct hammer this one out.” he sighed as he stood up straight. He really did not know how this one was going to play out. More than likely they would be just as stumped as he was.

Well... This was certainly a problem... He couldn't go anywhere if he wanted to succeed in his mission. At the same time he couldn't cause a scene either... Not one that got the cop's eyes on him any more than this.

He had a few options, though. "I believe taking me in may be detrimental to solving this crime... You see, the real murderer of this distressed man's poor pooch is fleeing as we speak. You did hear him say he was distracted by a car swerving past? That car is the very same one who hit this man's dog. They were swerving quite a bit, too... Perhaps they were under the influence of something? Maybe your should focus your efforts on that, perhaps?"

He figured it was about time the truth got out anyways. Yes, he would probably get in trouble for eating the dog, but he might be able to skate off of going to the precinct right here and now if he could steer them toward something more pressing. "It was a black Mazda, license plate 249-hii. I tried to tell the other cops, but they all seemed much more interested in the other man's story." He nodded slowly.

"I do not feel it is right that I should be prosecuted for my actions. I am a bug... We eat dead things. It is in my nature."

By now the bugs had the plate, and were bringing it out a hole they'd chewed in the back door... The other group would be bringing in the replacement plate, which looked as convincing as he could make it... save the fact that it was smashed, as if someone had stepped on it. The idea was that the owners would figure that they just had a bug problem, and a clumsy employee had knocked down the plate and stepped on it when the cops arrived.

>> "I believe taking me in may be detrimental to solving this crime... You see, the real murderer of this distressed man's poor pooch is fleeing as we speak. You did hear him say he was distracted by a car swerving past? That car is the very same one who hit this man's dog. They were swerving quite a bit, too... Perhaps they were under the influence of something? Maybe you should focus your efforts on that, perhaps? It was a black Mazda, license plate 249-hii. I tried to tell the other cops, but they all seemed much more interested in the other man's story."

As soon as Jorge stood he was bombarded with another story. The detective was quiet as he listened, attempting to try to get the truth out of this situation. Apparently Hubert had seen a possible drunk driving swerving into the street and it was that car that struck and killed the dog. He couldn’t test that theory because the dog…was still eaten! While it could have easily been a cover up for Hubert to not want to go to jail, especially since he did not tell this part of the story until after Jorge had mentioned going down to the precinct, Jorge could not let the possibility of it being true slip by. If there was a suspected drunk driver out on the streets, the police needed to know.

For a second Jorge eyed the Roach, trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. Finally he nodded as he pointed at him.

“Right here, you do not move until I get back, understand me Mr. Hazleroth?” He then turned and headed back to one of the squad cars that had arrived on the scene.

The scene was apparently drawing quite the crowd. Most people were too disgusted to be anywhere near the giant roach, but that did not stop people from gawking at a safe distance. He shook his head and waved them all off before he returned to the squad car. The last thing he needed was for the roach to get sensitive and sue for defamation of character. Once people were successful shooed away from the sight of Hubert, Jorge made his way to a couple of the cops who had arrived on the scene.

“Detective?” one of them asked as he leaned out of his car window.

“Listen, there’s a possible 10-39, drunk driver out in the streets right now.”

He then went on to describe the car given to him as well as the direction that it was last seen going down. Afterwards he told them to call it in and stepped back as they pulled out into the streets and drove on down to follow what would hopefully not turn out to be a figment of the Roach’s imagination. He watched as the police cruiser continued on and shook his head. This case really was tricky. It was true, most bugs were scavengers and if this mutant gained the behavioral instincts of a roach then, yes, he would have eaten the dead dog automatically without issue. If that were the case and he just stumbled upon the dead dog, a free meal, then his lawyers could easily play that up to just being a part of his instincts. But still…that man was so sure Hubert killed and ate that dog in front of him.

With another grumble, Jorge made his way back over to the Roach to try and figure out what to do next.

Good, he left for a bit. That was all he needed. The giant roach let out a light, rhythmic clicking, repeating the same pattern as he slowly sat against the curb again. Within seconds a cockroach scurried up to him.

He spoke to it for some time; they had a lot to discuss... He kept his eye on the officer, as the cockroach left, and returned with another. Gregory then picked up the little one, and gently placed it into his mouth. After the cockroach equivalent of a cry of pain, he pulled the Roach out, and placed it on the back of the other, who scurried off. He gave a slow nod. This was the only way he could make this work... He wasn't worried, though; he'd left the mission in the hands of a very competent bug. That, and he would be back.

He felt dizzy. He looked up slowly as the officer returned, and spoke in a tired tone. The act was on, after all... This had to be perfect. It was to be, after all, the performance of a lifetime.

"Ahh, Mister Cervantes. I'm sure you will find in the future that every word I have told you is the truth. That comforts me." He looked down to the ground for a moment... His spine hurt... It was a slight distraction, though... He couldn't let it get to him.

"My boy... You may guess that life is hard for one like me. With little thought, many view me as a lower form of life; though I have an education to surpass more than most. I try to ignore it all, but at some point, it has to end. What can one do to stop it, then, but to lash out, or to... end it another way?" He looked up to the officer, trying to Gage his reaction as he spoke.

"I try to tell myself that if I lash out, I will be naught but a monster... But look at me. I just consumed a man's pet, only seconds after it had passed on. I am a monster." He paused for a moment, as if lost in thought. "Ask him, will you? After... After we are done speaking, if he ever saw me kill his dog... he wasn't looking... He was checking the mail... That is a small detail by now, though... I suppose."

The Roach stood up, looking down to his cuffed hands, and then to Jorge. "You sir, are one of the few people in quite a while that has talked to be as if I were equal. I want to thank you for that... And I want to apologise... For this." In a simple movement, the roach pulled apart his cuffs like they were made of paper, and reached out for Jorge's gun, snapping it from it's holster with a great yank. In one fluid movement he clicked the safety off, placed the barrel in his mouth...

And pulled the trigger.

Mission accomplished.

Not wanting to leave the Roach alone for too long, Jorge made his way back to him after he sent off the other officers to find the supposed drunk driver. He sighed as he stepped back, feeling bad for insinuating that anything bad about the man’s behaviors due to his mutation, as well as utterly lost at what to do. The only real option he had was to take the mutant back to the precinct and let the lawyers fight this one out. Unfortunately for cases like this, it really was the only plausible option.

But, as he came up to the mutant, he was immediately addressed before he could say a word.

>> "Ahh, Mister Cervantes. I'm sure you will find in the future that every word I have told you is the truth. That comforts me…My boy... You may guess that life is hard for one like me. With little thought, many view me as a lower form of life; though I have an education to surpass more than most. I try to ignore it all, but at some point, it has to end. What can one do to stop it, then, but to lash out, or to... end it another way?"

Really, Jorge had no idea where to begin with this. The man seemed nice enough despite his appearance and some behavioral instincts. He was even quite eloquent. Deep down Jorge really did want to help Hubert out of this situation, after all, he worked in Mutant Related Crimes, so maybe it was his job to feel that way. After all it would be a little awkward to hire a man to work for such a unit who didn’t care. Then again, he really did have to remain objective. There really was no telling for sure what happened here. It was a mutant’s word against a human’s and sometimes those situations could turn out to be extra sticky.

>> "I try to tell myself that if I lash out, I will be naught but a monster... But look at me. I just consumed a man's pet, only seconds after it had passed on. I am a monster…Ask him, will you? After... After we are done speaking, if he ever saw me kill his dog... he wasn't looking... He was checking the mail... That is a small detail by now, though... I suppose."

“Mr. Hazleroth, it is not as all bad as that. Listen I can help yo-“ Jorge was cut off mid sentence.

The Roach’s words had caught him off guard pretty well. He really was ready to believe that this creature really wanted to admonish himself for what he had done. It seemed almost like a confession but still only related to the fact that he ate the dog post-mortem. But before the conversation could continue, the mutant made a sudden move. Jorge was surprised when the handcuffs broke and before he knew it, the bug was reaching for his gun. There was no way to stop him in time and before he knew it, he was overpowered to the point that his gun was pulled from its holster and was squarely in the hands of the prep.

The detective cursed to himself, feeling stupid for now putting on the mutant grade handcuffs instead. But, just as he pulled the water from a nearby sewer grate to aide him, a gunshot resounded. In surprise he watched as Hubert committed suicide, and lifeless body slumped back down onto the ground. Jorge stood in shock, staring at the lifeless mutant as several other officers ran to check what had happened.

After a minute of blank thought, Jorge shook his head and quietly turned to a nearby officer. “Get the coroner out here and rope off the area. We don’t need a sideshow attraction.”

Gently he sighed as he still stared at the fallen mutant. Great, this is going to look well on the reports.