"Uh, Lars?" asked Moe. "Why are we here?"

"The boss told us to steal that manuscript," replied Lars.

"Hey! Wait for me!" shouted Jewel.

Meanwhile, Antithesis and Mortimer were seated in Pleasant Park, having a
picnic.

Antithesis sighed. "I apologize for my brother's rudeness."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," answered Mortimer.

Antithesis set down her teacup. "It seems like you've been blaming yourself
too much. Can you think of the time you started that habit?"

Mortimer hesitated. "The accident."

"Accident?" Antithesis repeated.

"I was seven. My parents ran a cargo business together. One day, the
maintenance crew failed to regulate the safety valves on some tanks of
methane. The gas ignited, and the explosion killed Mother and Father."

"How terrible!"

"It was probably my fault."

"No, it wasn't," Antithesis replied. "It was an error by the maintenance
crew. Not to mention that methane has a tendency to explode."

Mortimer conceded the point.

Antithesis smoothed her pink dress. "Mortie, I just want you to know that
someone cares about you. And if you're down and troubled, all you have to do
is call."

"Thank you once again," Mortimer hugged her. "I've never met anyone like you
before."

"Thank you," Antithesis blushed. "And I must say Zack and Ivy have throughly
misjudged you. They probably wouldn't know a real gentleman if one came up
and joined their detective agency." She sighed. "Isn't this park peaceful?
Here, the world can't bother us."

Mortimer agreed. "We get away from the hustling crowd, and the pressures of
daily life." His eyes took on a distant look. "When I was a thief, I was so
busy staying one step ahead of the authorities, I never had time to myself."

"Well, I'm glad that's over." Antithesis looked at the sky. "What a lovely
golden afternoon."

"Can you imagine how beautiful the park is at night?" Mortimer asked.

"The moon and stars putting on a show for free?" Antithesis asked. "Yes, I
can. With room enough for two. You know, Mortie. Although others see the
world differently than us, maybe we can touch upon the wonders that they
see."

"And vice-versa."

Antithesis took her hand in Mortimer's. "We can face the rest of the world."

Mortimer finished the sentence. "Together."

Across town, Luke stood up to his podium. "Ladies and gentlemen."

The trustees applauded.

After delivering the long speech, Luke grabbed his briefcase and started for
the hall.

"Oh, Lukie!" a certain high voice called.

Luke's blood curdled. He whirled around to face a fourteen-year-old girl with
dimples and platinum blonde hair. "Go away, Sandra."

"Aw, Stop playing so hard to get." Sandra pouted and strutted off.

Luke slipped out of the auditorium and into the woods. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's fine," Lee answered. "Just gave me time to plot the demise of those
cousins of yours."

"You're planning to kill my cousins?"

"Why not? I'm planning to get rid of them after I beat them in the track
meet. That's not a problem with you, is it?"

"Oh no. By all means."

"Listen," Lee hissed. "I have a plan for Mortimer's ruin. I just need time to
finish it."

"Fine," Luke said impatiently. "Just tell me when you're done." He ran out of
the woods. When he reached his cousins' house, he threw his briefcase on the
couch. Incidentally, Zack was taking a nap there.

"Hey!" the startled detective cried.

Luke glared. "Quit lazing about."

Zack sat up. "Luke, you've done some pretty weird stuff in your life. And
you've done a lot of mean things. But this tops all."

"What do you mean?"

"You're being painfully opportunistic, or do you shove Mortie down the stairs
everyday?"

"That was an accident!" Luke insisted.

"Oh, Luke. Everybody knows that a person would never do something like that
either consciously or subconsciously unless they stood to gain from it!"

"WHAT'S GOTTEN IN YOU, ZACKARY?" yelled Luke. "YOU'RE ACTING LIKE A SASSY
PSYCHIATRIST! NOW CUT IT OUT!"

Zack covered his ears and ran into the next room.

Antithesis came in. "I had the most wonderful time with Mortimer."

Luke brushed a lock of blonde hair from his face. "But you'd be happier with
someone from our social circle."

"Yeah, right," Antithesis said sarcastically. "Like who?"

"Shawn VanWelt!"

"You expect me to consider that boorish, brainless, egotistical jerk? He's
not even interested in me."

"Remember our last party? He spilled his drink on you? He said 'Clean that
up!' "

Antithesis grimaced. "He thought I was the maid, the jerk!"

Luke tried again. "Shawn's good with animals."

His sister looked horrified. "He experiments on them!"

"OK," Luke admitted. "How about Dominic Ralston?"

"Not a jerk, but he's boring, he stutters, and his personality is just not as
sweet as Mortimer's. Besides, Dominic's seeing someone."

"Who?"

"Deborah Withers."

"Who's Deborah Withers?"

"Tall, thin, brown hair, hazel eyes, that ring a bell?" Antithesis asked.

"That mousy little girl sitting in the corner?" Luke shook his head. "Who'd
have thought? But I have one that tops all."

"Not Rocco Harding."

Luke beamed. "How'd you guess?"

Antithesis frowned at him. "You exist to torment me, don't you."

"NOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS ONE?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong. Rocco's too rich, has an IQ of twenty four, too
vain, wears tacky clothes, hits small children with his car, beats his
servants, hasn't bought new furniture since 1990, and he's been convicted of
murder--twice!"

"Come on, Anti. You already find appeal in the criminal element. If I didn't
know any better, I'd say you're deliberately finding a flaw in each of the
other suitors so you could continue dating Mortimer."

"Well, I'm dating Mortimer whether you like it or not!"

Luke stomped out. "If she rejects Mario Castanetta," he muttered under his
breath.  "I'll never speak to her again."

In the next room, Ivy whispered to Zack, "Luke's acting strange. I've got a
plan. So listen closely."

To be continued...