Spyder starts to turn red, which to those of us who know her definitely does not mean she is gettin' embarrassed. Rather, it is clear that we is about one step short of a full-blown donnybrook.

Unfortunately, someone thinks it is a good idea to take that step. One of the Army types sittin' directly behind Spyder decided to get cute by liftin' up the back of her skirt to try to peek under it.

Now, disguise spell or not, what's under it is still Spyder. Instead of givin' out a girlish squeal or tryin' to hold her skirt down, she simply pivots around and nails the guy with an overhand power punch. His seated position puts him lower than her, so she gets her full weight behind the hit with a bit of torque from a hip twist for a bonus. He goes down, not over the back of his chair but with it crumplin' under him, and doesn't twitch.

The laughter stops like a popped balloon as the rest of the Army types gape at their fallen buddy.

"Spyder, dear," sez Pookie, easin' forward, "what did I tell you about how a lady acts?"

"He was asking for it," Spyder growls, still hot under the collar.

'True enough," Pookie sez. "But, you see ..." Without lookin', she comes down with her left hand on the back of an occupied chair, dumpin' the soldier sittin' there on his back. At the same time, her right comes up behind the back of the head of the guy sittin' next to him, slammin' his forehead onto the table. Without a break in her movement, she leans across the table to the other two Army types sittin' there and slaps their heads together hard enough that their eyes cross and they slide to the floor.

"... you can handle situations like this without breaking into a sweat," she finishes. "Needless exertion is not the mark of a real lady."

"I see," Spyder sez, noddin' slowly. "Thanks for the tip, Pookie."

It would be nice if that was enough to settle things, but by my calculations, that was only five out of twelve down, leavin' seven still in good condition. What's more, the survivors were no longer in a playful mood. They are slowly gettin' to their feet with blood in their eyes.

I figure it is about time I took a hand before things get serious and someone get hurt.

"Atten-HUT!!" I barks in my best parade ground voice and kick the door behind me open.

Now if there's one thing the Army drills into its recruits startin' in Basic, it's how to hit the position of 'attention' at any given moment... like if an officer type walks into the room. The Army types still on their feet immediately stiffen into said position, and even the ones still on the floor go a little more rigid.

This tableau holds for several moments, then someone sneaks a peek to try to figure out why they are called upon to perform in such a manner during what is obviously their off time. What he sees is me silhouetted in the doorway with one of my hand-sized crossbows cocked and loaded.

"As you were," I sez with a wide smile.

Of course, catchin' 'em all with such an easy trick does nothin' toward improvin' their mood.

"Real cute, fellah," one of them sez, turnin' toward me. "You want a piece of this action?"

"Just an interested observer," I sez, still hangin' onto the crossbow. "I would suggest, however, that before you go any further it might be wise to examine the young lady's orders. Particularly notice who signed them."

"I don't care if they're signed by Queen Hemlock herself," the guy spits. "We've got some payback coming."

"Close, but not quite," I sez. "We're not talkin' the Queen. She's under orders from the Great Skeeve."

'The magician?" he sez, swallowin' hard.

"That's the only Skeeve that I know," I sez with a shrug. "Now that you're aware of the real situation, however, if you want to keep playing around with his personally appointed Investigator, I figure that's up to you."

With that I fold my arms and lean against the door frame, a study of casual disinterest if I do say so myself.

"Nice speech, Guido," comes a voice from directly behind me, makin' me jump slightly. "Good to see you haven't lost your delicate touch in handling the troops."

I turns around to discover Sergeant Smiley, my old Drill Instructor, grinnin' at me.

"So, Guido. What have you been doing with yourself lately?" Sergeant Smiley sez. "I was hearing good things about you after you left basic."

"You did?" I sez, surprised.

"Sure. I always try to keep track of my boys after they leave training. My ladies, too." He gives a small bow towards Spyder without standin' up.

We is all sittin' around a table at the same Tiki Lounge, except now it has been cleared of Army types except for the Sergeant and Spyder.

"Anyway," he sez, "I heard you got a couple fast promotions, then you dropped out of sight. Some scuttlebutt said you were pulled for Officer's Training. Other rumors had you on special assignment to the Royal Palace. Now I find you all decked out in civvies tagging along with a Special Investigator. All in all, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself."

Now, even though I kinda liked Sergeant Smiley, I did not feel inclined to tell him the whole truth, particularly under the current circumstances which is to say not under oath. While we were sort of old Army buddies, I was not sure how long that relationship would last if it came to light that I had been in the Army specifically to mess it up so that it would stop advancin' so fast while we figured out how to stop Queen Hemlock permanently.

"Can't complain," I sez carefully. "How about yourself? The last time I saw you, you were whippin' recruits into shape."

"It's the new reorganization thing," he sez with a sigh. "Now that we aren't on wartime footing, there's no need to recruit and train new soldiers. In fact, what with the cutbacks, we're hard-pressed to figure out what to do with the ones we have. I've got enough years in that I got to pick and choose when it came to re-assignment, so I went with what looked like easy duty with the new tax collecting unit."

He pauses to take a sip of his drink and makes a face.

"Easy duty. Yeah, right. It's like an open season on tax collectors, and we can't even get to shoot back because they're Possiltum citizens."

"Could you, perhaps, elucidate that a little?" I sez.

"I could," sez Smiley, "but I'll admit I'm curious as to why you're so interested."

I thinks for a few, then give a shrug.

"I don't think it's supposed to be a secret or nothin'," I sez. "There have been some rumors back at the castle that there may be a rebellion-type uprisin' in the makin'. We have therefore been sent out to check it out and report back as to how serious it is. Since it seems you have essentially been in the front lines when encounterin' signs of unrest, any input you can give us would not only be greatly appreciated, it would help us immensely in our investigatin'."

"That makes sense." Smiley nods.

"It does?" sez Spyder, but Pookie gives her a nudge and she shuts up.

"For the most part," Smiley sez, missin' the byplay, "it's just been some shouting and maybe a little produce tossing. Nothing particularly out of the normal, considering the popularity of tax collectors. The ones that get to me are the bozos who are actually holding up the collection squads."

"Let's start there," I sez. "I notice that you have referred to them in the plural, which would indicate to me more than one. In your opinion, is this an indication of an organized uprisin'?"

"I don't think so," Smiley sez, narrowin' his eyes in thought. "As near as I can tell, it's two separate groups operating independently of each other."