"Let's go celebrate. We're eating a real meal today." Vos marched forward with Tom under one arm and Jerry under the other.
"Pick any fancy place. Michelin, five stars, whatever. Mr. Vos is paying."
Tom and Jerry lit up. The high from their performance still hadn't faded. Seeing a whole crowd react to them like that… it was addicting.
"Gentlemen, hold it right there!"
A sharp voice snapped through the air. Vos froze. Three police officers were heading toward them. The one in front was a solidly built blond man in his forties. His badge practically sparkled.
Vos's face drained. "It's over. It's so over." His legs wobbled, and he nearly dropped both animals.
The gang must've called the cops. I knew it. The early bird gets shot down.
A parade of disasters hit him all at once: jail, soap, animal shelters… it wasn't great.
"Sir, identification," the officer said. His tone was polite but left no room to negotiate.
Vos fumbled out his wallet and handed over the old owner's ID. "Officer, I swear I didn't break any laws. I was just performing."
The officer looked at the ID, then gave it back. "Mr. Vos Nibaba, I'm Captain George Stacy, NYPD. We received a report. You were performing without a permit."
"Report?" Vos blinked. "Who reported me?"
George pointed. A group of street performers were glaring at him: a guitar-playing uncle, a portrait painter, and an old magician.
"It was him!" the old magician declared, pointing dramatically. "As soon as he showed up, all my customers vanished! He doesn't even have a permit!"
"Yeah!" the guitar guy added. "We pay for ours! And those animals of his don't have vaccination papers. What if they bite someone?"
Vos sagged. So it wasn't the gang. It was jealous coworkers. Good news and terrible news at the same time.
Captain George addressed the crowd and then turned to Vos. "They're right. You need a street performance permit, and your animals need vaccination certificates."
"Officer, I'm new. I didn't know," Vos said. "Can I apply now?"
Tom and Jerry tensed. They understood English. They understood trouble.
George didn't sound cruel, just firm. "The permit must be filed at City Hall. Approval takes around two weeks. It costs one hundred dollars, and you'll need proof of identity and address."
"Two weeks?" Vos felt the ground tilt. "What am I supposed to do for two weeks?"
"Until you have the permit, you can't perform commercially in public spaces," George said. "Your animals also need rabies vaccines before they can appear anywhere."
Vos deflated completely. Ten minutes ago, he was imagining a better life. Now the universe had drop-kicked him.
"Officer… any chance you can make an exception? I really need this job. I'm barely keeping up with rent."
George hesitated, eyeing Tom and Jerry. A bit of sympathy slipped through. "I can't bend the law. But—"
Vos perked up.
"If you perform indoors, in private venues like bars or restaurants, you don't need a street permit. As long as the owner approves. The vaccination requirement still stands."
Vos's eyes lit up. "That works! Yes! Thank you, officer!"
The other performers looked bitter, especially the old magician. He tried to complain again, but George shut him up with a single look.
"Everyone disperse," George said. Then to Vos: "Get the permit. And don't perform in public until then."
The officers left. Vos dropped onto a bench like a deflated balloon.
Tom and Jerry stood beside him, unsure how to help.
"It's over," Vos muttered into his hands. "Totally over. I finally saw hope and it evaporated."
He started calculating out loud. "I made eighteen hundred today. Rent is due in three days. After I pay that, I'll have about a thousand left. The permit costs a hundred, the vaccinations will eat more… and I can't perform outside for two weeks…"
Tom gently tapped Vos's leg. Jerry climbed up and brushed Vos's cheek with his tiny paw.
Vos let out a tired laugh. "You two are the only good thing right now."
He stood up. "Alright. One step at a time. Officer's right. Vaccinations first."
At the word vaccinations, both Tom and Jerry stiffened. Tom's tail puffed up. Jerry slipped behind him like a soldier taking cover.
"Relax. It's just a quick poke," Vos said. "Once you're vaccinated, we can perform anywhere."
They headed to a nearby pet clinic called Caring Pet Clinic. Through the glass door, they saw a clean waiting room and a few puppies staring at them.
"Welcome!" A middle-aged woman in a white coat walked over. "I'm Dr. Smith. Here for a check-up?"
Tom and Jerry's faces got even paler at the word check-up.
"Yes. Rabies vaccinations and health certificates," Vos said.
"Great. Follow me."
Dr. Smith led them into the exam room. "They're adorable. And this cat… he has such smart eyes."
Tom puffed up proudly, but one look at the medical tools and his confidence evaporated.
"We'll start with the cat," Dr. Smith said.
Tom bolted. He sprinted across the room, vaulted onto cabinets, and dove under tables.
"Tom! Come back!" Vos chased him.
Jerry watched like he was at a comedy show. He even clapped at one point.
Dr. Smith chuckled. "He's spirited. But don't worry."
She pulled out a dried fish and dangled it. Tom froze. His instincts betrayed him. He crept toward it.
The moment he reached for the fish, she scooped him up.
"Easy, sweetheart. This will be quick."
Tom saw the syringe and nearly passed out. He wailed and flailed while she held him still.
"It's just a mosquito bite," she said.
"Ow—!" Tom screeched loud enough that dogs in the next room started barking.
"It's done." She released him.
Tom touched his arm, confused. It barely hurt. He immediately pretended he'd never screamed.
"And now the little mouse," Dr. Smith said.
Jerry, who had just been enjoying Tom's misery, froze in horror. He tried the same escape routine but was tiny. Dr. Smith caught him with a small net in five seconds.
"Don't worry, sweetie." She pulled out a thinner needle.
Jerry shook in the net. His eyes were wet. He looked too pitiful to tease.
Tom walked over and tapped the net gently, giving Jerry a comforting look: If I survived it, you will too.
"Hiss—" Jerry stiffened at the injection.
Then he realized it wasn't that bad. He let out a relieved breath.
"Both brave boys," Dr. Smith said. "Your certificates will be ready tomorrow afternoon."
"Thank you, doctor." Vos paid the eighty dollars.
Outside the clinic, Tom and Jerry looked at each other, then burst into shy laughter. Their heroic escape attempts had been… less heroic than intended.