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Description
“Bills…Check…Postcard…” Chip the Wolf lethargically flipped through the contents of his apartment mailbox, his eyes drooping from the events of the day's cookie-stealing antics. He sighed with sleep and prepared to take the key out his pocket and replace it with the day’s mail.

“Ya’know, I had high hopes for you. When Chip the Dog got lax on the cookies-for-breakfast business, you had a real clever plan to make sure that it wouldn’t happen again and that C.E.R.E.A.L wasn’t implicated in his “accident.” That’s why we took you on.”

Chip whirled around to face the voice in the shadows of the hallway. He couldn’t see who the voice belonged to, but there was no way he couldn’t have known who it was.

“Don Rabbit,” he said, foolishly. The Trix Rabbit stepped out of the shadows, followed by Tony Tiger, the Underboss. Don Rabbit frowned.

“Now, see, that’s the problem I always had with you. You state the obvious, and you state it where it’s not too bright to state it. What if there were police around? They’d take us all straight to jail. But I figured we could work around that. But now I got a bigger problem with you.”

Chip tried to hold in the gasp that was forming in his throat, a gasp that was rising higher and higher as he realized what his boss was talking about.

“The…the cereal stealing bit…I…I wasn’t trying to steal your…it wasn’t my idea…they said you wouldn’t mind…I…”

“Who’s they? Never mind, I don’t care who “they” are,” Don Rabbit was moving closer now and Tony was reaching into his trench coat.

"I don’t care who said I wouldn’t mind. I don’t care if the Pope said I wouldn’t mind. Don’t care if God himself opened the clouds and said ‘I command thee to steal Don Rabbit’s bit.’ You check with me before you steal cereal.

“I can forgive quite a few things, but plagiarism ain’t one of them.” On cue, Tony pulled out his trusty .22 and pointed it directly at Chip’s head.

Don Rabbit smirked. “You’re gonna bleed Raspberry Red, punk.”

The sound of the gun could be heard through the tiny hall. “Let’s go,” the Don and Tony turned to leave before anyone could call the cops.

As they left, Don eyed the gun Tony was slipping back into his coat.

“How are those things for long range?”

"They’re Gr-r-r-r-reat!" Tony said as they entered the apartment stairwell, preparing to climb down the 3 flights of stairs to Cap’n Crunch’s gettaway galley.
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When I saw the Cookie-Crisp mascot had been replaced by that Wolf guy, I couldn’t stop wondering what happened to that dog. Somehow it evolved into all the cereal mascots belonging to a mafia-type orginazation, called C.E.R.E.A.L (acronym help, please?). So I drew this picture, used my bad pen to ink it (where do all my good pens go?) and typed up this little (Ha! Little...) story.

The sad thing is, five months of drawing and this is all I have to show. Oh, well.

The cereal mascots are (C)....Not me... I'm too lazy to look up the company name.

Description
“Bills…Check…Postcard…” Chip the Wolf lethargically flipped through the contents of his apartment mailbox, his eyes drooping from the events of the day's cookie-stealing antics. He sighed with sleep and prepared to take the key out his pocket and replace it with the day’s mail.

“Ya’know, I had high hopes for you. When Chip the Dog got lax on the cookies-for-breakfast business, you had a real clever plan to make sure that it wouldn’t happen again and that C.E.R.E.A.L wasn’t implicated in his “accident.” That’s why we took you on.”

Chip whirled around to face the voice in the shadows of the hallway. He couldn’t see who the voice belonged to, but there was no way he couldn’t have known who it was.

“Don Rabbit,” he said, foolishly. The Trix Rabbit stepped out of the shadows, followed by Tony Tiger, the Underboss. Don Rabbit frowned.

“Now, see, that’s the problem I always had with you. You state the obvious, and you state it where it’s not too bright to state it. What if there were police around? They’d take us all straight to jail. But I figured we could work around that. But now I got a bigger problem with you.”

Chip tried to hold in the gasp that was forming in his throat, a gasp that was rising higher and higher as he realized what his boss was talking about.

“The…the cereal stealing bit…I…I wasn’t trying to steal your…it wasn’t my idea…they said you wouldn’t mind…I…”

“Who’s they? Never mind, I don’t care who “they” are,” Don Rabbit was moving closer now and Tony was reaching into his trench coat.

"I don’t care who said I wouldn’t mind. I don’t care if the Pope said I wouldn’t mind. Don’t care if God himself opened the clouds and said ‘I command thee to steal Don Rabbit’s bit.’ You check with me before you steal cereal.

“I can forgive quite a few things, but plagiarism ain’t one of them.” On cue, Tony pulled out his trusty .22 and pointed it directly at Chip’s head.

Don Rabbit smirked. “You’re gonna bleed Raspberry Red, punk.”

The sound of the gun could be heard through the tiny hall. “Let’s go,” the Don and Tony turned to leave before anyone could call the cops.

As they left, Don eyed the gun Tony was slipping back into his coat.

“How are those things for long range?”

"They’re Gr-r-r-r-reat!" Tony said as they entered the apartment stairwell, preparing to climb down the 3 flights of stairs to Cap’n Crunch’s gettaway galley.
--------------------------------

When I saw the Cookie-Crisp mascot had been replaced by that Wolf guy, I couldn’t stop wondering what happened to that dog. Somehow it evolved into all the cereal mascots belonging to a mafia-type orginazation, called C.E.R.E.A.L (acronym help, please?). So I drew this picture, used my bad pen to ink it (where do all my good pens go?) and typed up this little (Ha! Little...) story.

The sad thing is, five months of drawing and this is all I have to show. Oh, well.

The cereal mascots are (C)....Not me... I'm too lazy to look up the company name.