A bright, sun-shiny day finds two vulpines being led into what passes for a garden. (Why does it pass? Because the Inquisitrix that owns it says so, that's why.)

One of them is gray, with five tails. The other one has more "traditional" fox coloration, though that is largely defeated by his garishly foppish attire.

But then, both of them look fairly garish insofar as attire.

The vulpines are handed standard gardening equipment, are pointed out the weeds, and instructed to get to work, weeding the garden. With that, the Jupanis walk off, leaving just one rather bored-looking wolf to watch the two vulpines.

The foppish fox whines, "This isn't FAIR! I'll get DIRTY! This sort of work is BENEATH me!" He hops up and down, stomping a withered vine. "Die, weed, DIE!"

The five-tailed fox asks one of the Jupanis, "Don't we get gardening aprons or something? He's right – we'll get filthy."

A lazy-looking Jupani finds a stump to sit on, and pulls a squashed sandwich from underneath his tabard. "Good. Get filthy. It'll look like you actually got some work done."

The foppish fox says, "Down with the Temple! Down with the Temple! Oppressors and evil villains! A pox on thee! You'll never suppress the spirit of a fox! Never, I tell you!" He waves his hoe in the air defiantly.

Francisco grumbles back, "You realize how much this shirt cost me? This is not the kind of material one does gardening in, you know."

The Jupani, ignoring the foppish fox, says, "No, I don't realize. How much DID it cost you?"

The Kitsune looks over the Jupani's attire briefly. "Judging by your clothing, probably a lot more. So, do we get aprons?"

"Nope," the Jupani says, and chews into his flattened sandwich.

"Hmph," mutters the Kitsune. "In that case, I won't wear it while I work then." He proceeds to take off his shirt and fold it carefully.

The foppish fox beats at some nearby vines, chanting, "Die, weed, die! By and by! Give up now, for your doom is nigh!"

Francisco puts his folded shirt out of the way of all the dirt, and starts weeding as well with hardly any grumbling compared to the other fox.

The vine that is being whacked twitches violently several times, then lays still.

The foppish fox puts one foot on the vanquished vine, holding his hoe high. "Victory!"

The Kitsune looks up from the patch he is weeding, and asks the other fox, "Congratulations, I'm sure. But is that really necessary?"

The fox adopts a haughty expression and says, "If you can't do it with enthusiasm, it's not worth doing at all!"

Francisco looks at the other fox for a moment, as if considering, then just nods.

The vine twitches again.

The Jupani gulps down a bite of an unidentified flattened object, then barks, "All right, all right, prettyboy! Back to work, like five-tails is doing, eh?"

With that, the wolf gets up, grumbling, and heads across the yard, around the building, to where some other workers can be seen. It seems that the lupine supervisors are partaking in some game of chance that involves rolling dice on a flat slab of stone, and the sandwich-eating Jupani puts in a few shekels of his own as he sits down.

The five-tailed fox figures that he can get away with talking to the other fox as long as he keeps working. "So, how come you're here then?" he asks him.

The foppish fox bows to Francisco. "Because I … " he pauses dramatically, "am an EXILE!"

The twitching vine wraps around one of the foppish fox's ankles.

Francisco grins. "Well, join the club. Oh, and that one's not quite dead yet," Francisco says, pointing to the fox's ankles.

"Club?" The foppish fox looks down, and starts doing exactly that to the writhing vine. Alas, it is too late! With a frightened yip, the fox is yanked off of his feet, and whipped through the air by the animated vine … and plopped right into what looks like a greatly oversized Venus flytrap. (Perhaps a Sinai flytrap?) "AIEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The "Sinai flytrap" snaps shut, forming a large green bulb, within which something vaguely foppish-fox-sized is wiggling about and pounding, making muffled cries of "HAAAAAAAAAAAAALP!"

Francisco blinks and jumps to his feet, looking around and grabbing up a spade. He rushes over to the vine and works out where the bulb now containing the fox is, and uses the bladed edge to try and hack that part of the plant off.

Moisture sprays as the Kitsune hacks into the plant, and several of the vines respond by curling up and heading Francisco's direction.

The Kitsune continues to hack at the plant, either not noticing the other vines, or more concerned for the foppish fox than himself.

*FWIP* One of the vines wraps around the Kitsune's ankle, just as it did with the foppish fox but a moment ago. Two more close in. The foppish fox, meanwhile, keeps writhing and crying, "HALLLLLLLP! HELP MEEEEEEEEE!"

Francisco yips in concern, but continues to slash against the other vine.

Francisco's concern is well-founded, as is proven when … with a mighty yank … he is whipped off his feet and finds himself dangling upside down in the air!

The Kitsune takes a moment to growl at the vine, yet tries still to sever the other one before those holding him.

The vines don't seem to be cooperating. The Kitsune is held dangling in the air, rather than where he was in reach of the "Sinai flytrap".

Realizing he can't quite reach the other vine anymore, Francisco tries to swing himself slightly to attack the vine that holds himself.

The vine holding Francisco seems to be much easier to reach. Pretty straightforward, really, aside from being upside down and being held up in the air above the ground.

Francisco re-asserts his grip on the spade, and whacks the blade of it against the vine holding him as hard as he can in this position.

With a spray of vine-juice, and an amazingly well-placed blow by the upside-down Kitsune, the spade slices into the already-battered vine, and cuts through the fibers. The vine holding Francisco is severed! He's free!

Francisco is free! He's falling! He … *THUD* That's gotta hurt.

"OW!" says the "Sinai flytrap" … or, that is, the wriggling shape inside it. It seems the foppish fox has broken Francisco's fall.

Fortunately, Francisco is reasonably resilient. It takes a brief instant to recover his senses, but he's sprawled out on top of the "mouth" of the plant, with a wriggling foppish fox somewhere below him. Three vines, one spurting vine-juice, whip about every which way.

The big pod that has swallowed the foppish fox is in a tangle of vines in the midst of the garden. The vines radiate out from that tangle. Francisco is now on top of that large pod.

The five-tailed fox tries to think quickly, since trying to hack this vine is not going well at all. Perhaps he could push the spade into the mouth of the pod in the hopes that the fox inside can grab it and use it from the inside.

That might be possible. The pod's tri-part "mouth" is currently closed, but the thorn-like teeth seem best designed for keeping prey in, rather than unwanted implements OUT.

Francisco decides to take the chance. "Mind out!" he calls to the fox inside, "I'm going to try and force the spade into the mouth – grab it an use it to give that vine a severe case of indigestion."

There's a muffled response from inside the pod, and more wriggling.

The Kitsune takes that as an 'okay' and pushes the spade between the teeth of the pod – it seems to go in quite well.

With a *glump* the spade slips in and disappears. The Kitsune manages to keep his arm.

The vines continued to shake in the air violently. The pod wriggles and writhes as well. Plant-juice sprays here and there.

Nearby, it appears that the foppish fox's hoe is still at hand, having gotten stuck in the tangle of vines that the pod grows out of.

Francisco calls out, into the mouth of the pod, staying clear enough away from it. "Hit it harder – where's that enthusiasm of yours?"

The response comes in the form of another panicked wail, and more spurts of plant-juice shooting this way and that. The pod is wiggling and trembling more violently, and the vines slap the ground, bouncing about.

There's a very strange sound from the plant … almost like … a gagging noise?

Leaving the fox to himself for a moment, the Kitsune hops away from the mouth of the pod and grabs the hoe. Going back to the mouth, he tries to get the blade of the hoe into the mouth in an effort to prise it open.

Fortunate it is that the Kitsune leaps out of the way, for at the very moment he returns … with a loud *SPTOOO!* the screaming, vine-juice-covered foppish fox is expelled into the air by the pod. The foppish fox makes a very dramatic arc through the air … and crashes into a tangle of (non-animated) bushes across the way. "OW!" can be heard from the bushes.

The pod and vines tremble and then relax against the ground.

Francisco uses the hoe anyway by hitting the blade of it against the vine, before running over to where the other fox landed.

It takes a bit of work to navigate the thorns, but at last Francisco reaches a spot in the black-rose bushes where the foppish fox is suspended rather unceremoniously (and upside-down), whimpering piteously.

"You okay?" the Kitsune asks the fox.

The foppish fox sniffles a couple of times, then looks at the Kitsune. "Uhm … FINE! Just dandy! Everything is under control!"

"In fact," says the upside-down fox, as he dangles, "I think this calls for a SONG!"

Francisco nods a couple of times. "Good," Francisco says, "And you dropped your hoe."

"First, I need to think of a rhyme. Hmm," ponders the foppish fox. "What rhymes with 'tails'?"

Francisco rrrfs? "Song? Er – I think that we should get back to work, really."

"Snails?" murmurs the fox. "Sails? Wails? Fails? Bails? Entrails? Mails? Rails? Frails?"

The foppish fox ponders, then says, "Jails? … Pails? … Nails!"

The Kitsune begins to look disinterested, and leaves the hoe, and goes back to the patch of weeds he was first working on.

Music drifts from the bushes. Did that foppish fox have an instrument?

Meanwhile, it appears that nobody across the yard noticed a thing.

From the bush, a vulpine voice calls out, "Your name is Fahnseesko, right? What rhymes with Fahnseesko?"

The Kitsune calls back, "That's Francisco, as in 'san'. Oh yeah, and I don't think I got your name?"

The foppish fox immediately starts playing … and singing.

"Let me tell you 'bout a fox so fine,"

"He has plenty o' tails to spare,"

"He'll rescue the helpless from fox-eating vines,"

"Just to show you how much he cares!"

(musical interlude)

"Fraaaaaaaaancisco! Francisco!"

"No matter what, he'll take the risk-o!"

"Fran, that's the man, 'Cuz he can (as in 'San!')"

"What a fox, on the rocks, clean your clocks, with his socks,"

"That's my hero, call him near-o – FRANCISCO!"

Francisco's ears flick back and ponders what is worse – being trapped in the pod, or listening to this singing.

The fox pauses. "Like it? Want to hear the second verse?"

The Kitsune shakes his head. "I think that we should both get back to work, actually."

"Great idea!" the foppish fox cries out … and starts singing again.

Rolling his eyes slightly, Francisco tries to busy himself with the weeding and just ignore the fox.

"Oh, if you try, you'll find no dirt,"

"On the fox who wears multi-colored shirts!"

"Don't mind at all if his fur is gray,"

"'Cuz he's got a heart of gold, I can truly say!"

(musical interlude)

"Fraaaaaaaancisco! Francisco!"

"No matter what, he'll take the risk-o!"

"Fran, that's the man, 'cuz he can, (As in 'San!')"

"What a fox, on the rocks, clean your clocks, with his socks,"

"That's my hero, isn't he dear-o? – FRAAAAANCISCO!"

The Jupani continue rolling dice, peacefully oblivious to the noise from their safe distance.

"Well, I think this song has something!" the foppish fox says. "In fact, I think I'll play it in the Bazaar. It will be a hit!"

"What was that, again, that they call you? A Khattasoonee?" the foppish fox yells.

"Kitsune," Francisco comments, not looking up.

"Thanks!" chirps the bush, and the music resumes. "Verse THREE!"

"In case you forgot, he's a Kitsune,"

"No, not a Nohbakim, he's not that loony!"

"He's an Exile fox from a distant star,"

"On a mission of mercy from parts afar!"

"Fraaaaaaaancisco! Francis – WHOOPS! AIEEEE!" *crash*

There's a pause. A moment of silence.

Not for long.

"I'm ALL RIGHT! I'm okay! Everything's under control!"

Francisco tries to bury his head in a slightly dirty paw, sighing.

The foppish fox, his foppish attire in much need of patching (and cleaning), treads into view, and begins pulling up weeds. "See? I'm working!" He's pulling up a few flowers, too, but, considering the state of the garden, it probably won't be noticed.

Francisco is not looking, more concerned with his own patch of weeds than the fox's.

The foppish fox pants loudly, then says, "So … what IS a Kitsune, anyway?"

The Kitsune looks up from his weeding, "Mmm? It would probably take a while to explain."

Francisco says, "And we should be working."

The foppish fox rips out several more plants, by sheer odds many of them probably being weeds. "We can work and talk! I do it all the time!"

The five-tailed fox sighs, and looks at the fox. "I really think that we should get this work done, first. Let's get it done, and I will explain once we're finished."

The foppish fox brightens. "Splendid!" He becomes a dirt-dervish of activity, rapidly defoliating a wide swath through the garden.

Francisco reminds the other fox, "And you might want to stick to just pulling out weeds. I don't think whoever this garden belongs to would appreciate any other flowers being pulled out."