Sarge was idly sitting at his desk. He had a single case he was trying to crack. It was a tough one, but he needed a break from it. All this thinking on severed ties, forgotten memories, and reality warping were hard to grasp.

"Ugh," he grumbled. He kicked his feet onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "Dunno how to go about this case..."

There was a knock at Sarge's office door.

"Come in." Sarge said. He quickly lowered his feet off the table and organized the files on his desk. She smiled politely before speaking. "So, are you still okay with being the voice of the department for Bergamot High tomorrow?"

Sarge's eyes widened. "Wait, that's tomorrow?!" He yanked open his office desk and pulled out a half-written paper titled, "The Mind and Eyes of a Detective".

"We can get Sam to go in if you-"

"No, no, it's alright." Sarge pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, been racking my brain with this case. It's a doozy."

"That the one about some weird, anomolous contract that's supposedly 'warping' people's realities?" Stacy asked.

"More or less," Sarge pushed the files on the desk toward Stacy. "Simply put, multiple reports of people undergoing changes to their reality that only they're aware of. One case would make them a lunatic. Two cases would be weird, coincidental psychosis. but twelve cases? Seems odd, right?"

Stacy picked up the files and looked at it. "What I find weirder is that you've put your own photograph in here?" Stacy pulled a small portrait of Sarge. It had small writing in red ink at the bottom of it that said, "Victim_01"

"Long story. Unfortunately, as the way it goes, you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me." Stacy put the photo down and folded her arms.

"Okay well, for the past two years now, I turn into Santa around the holidays. All my credentials and everything seem to shift during that time. My driver's license even states I'm anywhere from forty to seventy years old. When it happens, I have difficulties remembering it happened, but when it's over, I remember it almost perfectly."

Stacy raised a brow. "Okay, you're right, I don't really believe you. Your employee file does state you're a thirty-one-year-old werewolf and the sole member of the paranormal department." Stacy sighed. "But, considering what you've already dealt with, I'm willing to suspend my disbelief a bit."

Sarge nodded.

The two stayed silent for a moment before Sarge decided to speak up. "I'll be there tomorrow. I'll even adlib if I have to."

After Stacy's acknowledgement, she said her goodbyes and headed home for the night. Sarge spent a little bit of time reading over the files before he decided to head home himself.

---

Sarge woke up to his alarm. It was blaring its raucous warning to him that it was 8:00 AM. Sarge grumbled and got out of bed to his bathroom. He was feeling rather sore today but chose not to question it too much.

When he attempted to walk through the door, he noticed the sides of his belly brushed against the doorframe.

"Huh?" he asked himself.

He decided to quickly check his bathroom mirror and felt his stomach drop when he did. He could immediately see he wore a full, brown and grey beard that made him look as if he were in his fifties. His eyes were sunken, and his midsection was looking a lot more plump today.

"Oh, for the love of cookies!" Sarge snarled. "It's October! You wouldn't even let me celebrate Halloween first?!"

Sarge quickly grabbed his wallet from the bedroom and pulled out his license. To his dismay, the license said he was born in 1970... on December 24th. His legal name? Santa.

---

Sarge dressed up in his best business attire before heading to the career day at the high school. He tried to give his presentation, but all the while, people kept whispering sentences like, "that's Santa, isn't it?" or, "since when was Santa a detective?"

After the presentation, and sitting at a booth with Stacy to answer a plethora of questions, the career day finally died down. Stacy chuckled and looked over at Sarge. "Well, Santa, you certainly were popular today."

"Stacy..." Sarge grumbled.

"What? I thought it was cute!"

"Don't you remember what I told you last night?"

"That you'd... probably be adlibbing?"

"No!" Sarge exclaimed. He put a hand to his mouth and took a deep breath. He somehow inhaled smoke. This made him cough and look at his hand. It was holding a lit cigar. "Grah!"

"Can't believe they let you smoke a cigar in here, though. It's a school!" Stacy smirked and rolled her eyes. "You are always quite the charmer there, Santa."

"It's not..." Sarge snuffed out the cigar but stuck it back in his mouth. He didn't have anywhere else to hold it. He then sat back in his chair and felt his shirt buttons pop. He didn't realize it until now, but he'd been slowly gaining weight while they were here.

Sarge tried to fasten up his shirt but found no luck pulling it over his widening belly. He spoke up in agitation. "It's... the thing! The thing I told you last night...." He was trying to remember what he had said. It was very difficult.

"Yeah?"

Sarge released his shirt and took another deep breath. "You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you I was a thirty-one-year-old, non-smoking, beardless, 'in-better-shape' wolf a day ago..." Sarge pulled out his license again. This time, it said he was born in 1969. "It's so hard to believe, even my driver's license doesn't agree with me..."

Stacy stared at Sarge for a long minute. "You're right, Santa, I don't believe you."

---

Seems the weird contract has affected Sarge, even before Halloween... uh oh. If all goes like last year, he's only got a few years left before the change becomes permanent.

---

Art/Story/Concept/Sarge ©  pikminpedia Me