Cookoo Charlie's Animal Alphabet - Hyena

Hyena

As consciousness crept its way back into Detective William Dowd’s brain, he heard the laughter. A laughter that wasn’t human. Dowd found himself on a chair with his hands strapped tight behind it, his legs spread out and secured to the wooden legs. More distressing to Dowd was the unsettling fact that he was completely nude.

The captive detective didn’t have time to ponder his raw situation for long; he was slammed backwards, his head smacking the concrete floor of the warehouse. More animal laughter.

A hand grabbed Dowd’s hair and pulled him upright. Through his stunned brain, he heard feminine singing.

“Take me out to the ball game

Where I can murder and maim.”

Shaking his head to clear his vision, Detective Dowd focused on the source of the inhuman laughter: two large hyenas stood before him. From the corner of his right eye, he observed the shadow of the swinging bat that was slammed into his chest, breaking at least one rib.

“My, my, my, Detective Dowd, aren’t we well-endowed?” stated a young lady stepping into view. She was dressed in a skin-tight black, red and white jester’s outfit with a black mask. With the Louisville Slugger in her hand, she looked like she could give the Baseball Furies major competition.

“Because of you, my puddin’ has been arrested again. He’s back in Arkham, again. Which he’ll bust out of… a…gain!”

Dowd tried to respond to the harried harlequin’s tirade but his chest was in excruciating pain. Breathing was dificult, a cracked rib could’ve pierced a lung. He could only stare at the maniacal Minnie Mantle.

“When will you ever learn? Those living in your society are living in-sane. Who are the true free spirits of Gotham; those behind padded cells or those pitiful so-called civilized creeps behind office walls? For you, it’s a mute point. It’s the bottom of the ninth with two outs and you, Big Dick, have struck out. Sick ‘em, boys.”

The hyena named Lou by his master lunged forward and tore out a hunk of one of Gotham’s Finest’s inner thigh. His partner in predation, Bud, bit off Dowd’s cock, snidely snickered and gobbled it down.

Running her fingers through Bud’s mane, the Suicide Squad squeeze said, “What do folks always say when they need a cop? There’s no dick around.”