Fanon:Veronaville Troubles

Veronaville Troubles is a detective fanon written by AsherEire. It stars Tank Grunt as he solves one of the biggest cases in the rural, generally crime-free Veronaville. To avoid confusion, this fanon is canon with A Pleasant Story, more specifically, the final chapter.

Chapter 1
It had been a busy week, and Tank Grunt entered the café. He saw his friend, Juliette Capp, sat down, reading a newspaper. A steaming cup of coffee sat beside her. Tank took the seat opposite her. Juliette looked up. "Hey Tank- what happened to your face?"

Tank had recently solved one of SimNation's most confusing cases, and had been in a little scrap. "It's a long story." He noticed the newspaper in her hands. "Any big news?" he asked.

"Yeah, a fifteen-year-old boy boy got shot in downtown Pleasantview. He died in hospital about an hour later. And everyone else thought he was going to be OK."

Tank ran a hand through his thicker hair. He had let it grow a bit from that stupid crew cut his dad made him have. "I heard about that." he said. "Wasn't he trying to protect someone?"

"Yeah..." Juliette quickly scanned the article for a name. "He was trying to save... Johnny and Rachel Smith from Strangetown."

Tank sighed. "Johnny... I haven't heard from him in years."

"You knew him?" she asked.

"Yeah... I used to beat him up. I apologised before moving to Pleasantview, so I guess we were friends. Technically he's my brother's best friend."

A woman came over and took Tank's order. "So," Juliette said "what happened to you? You look like you've been caught up in a zombie apocalypse or something."

Tank smiled. "Well, you know that boy who was poisoned in his own home?"

"Yeah... Romeo told me all about it- before he left."

Chapter 2
It was a quiet night, and Josh couldn't sleep. He had a bad feeling about tonight. His best friend had died the week before. Poisoning, apparently. The police had been put on red alert for a potential serial killer.

Josh felt parched. He decided to go downstairs to get a drink in an attempt to calm his nerves down. He picked up a glass from the draining board and turned on the tap. He filled the glass to the brim before turning off the tap and setting it down on the side. He took a small sip before putting the glass down. He wandered into the living room and flipped open the lid of his laptop.

No important social updates. He switched it off and went back to the kitchen. He picked up the glass and decided to down its contents. Halfway through his drink, he noticed the water had a funny taste to it. He poured the remaining water down the sink and made a mental note to tell his dad that there was something up with the plumbing again.

As Josh was nearing the stairs, his head started spinning. He collapsed.

The killer quietly snuck up and checked the boy's pulse. Nothing. He got up and left without a trace. At least, that's what he thought.

He had left behind one incriminating piece of evidence. By the time he had realised his mistake, he knew it was too late to go back.

Chapter 3
"Yeah, poor kid." Juliette said. "No one deserves to die like that."

"Uh-huh..." Tank murmured, his mind obviously elsewhere. "Well, that murder confirmed we were after a serial killer and that this wasn't a coincidence. I was told to go and check out the scene to see what I could find."

"And did you find anything?" Juliette asked hopefully.

Tank grinnned. "Sure I did. It was some vital evidence, and the killer was stupid enough to leave it behind."

"Stop with this the killer business! Are you going to tell me who it was or not?"

Tank shot her a look. A look that said "no".

She shifted uncomfortably. "Oh... OK. Go ahead." Tank quietly chewed on a nail before continuing.

Chapter 4
When Tank received that phone call to go check out the scene was a stroke of luck. He was starting to have doubts about moving to Veronaville. He was broke, and getting desperate. He was even considering questioning the grass to find out why the bucket had been killed with a shovel, or some other random case.

He got out of his car and walked up to the front door. He pulled on some latex gloves before stepping inside. The interior looked inviting, like a normal family home. It had the family environment Tank had never grown up with.

He had a little search around, but he didn't find anything particularily interesting. Except in the bin... a small bin was tucked away in the corner. Tank peered in. Nothing special... except a small torn sachet...

Tank reached in and pulled the small packet out of the bin. It was a sachet of some kind of garden poison. The sachet looked normal. What bugged Tank was the fact it was in the kitchen. Poison near edible goods, that's just dangerous.

Tank strode out of the kitchen and back in the hallway. He thought briefly to when he was a boy and the time he was messing around with Ripp. He had thrown a ball at him. It missed and had completely vanished from sight. A year later, Tank had a sudden idea to look under the sofa, and he found it.

Near where the boy had died, was a chest of drawers with keys and photos on top. He quickly scanned the top before looking through each drawer. Nothing.

He then peered under the table. And there was the thing he was looking for. It was a large wallet with a large number of stolen credit cards inside.Tank pocketed his find and left.

He had a lot of work to do.

Chapter 5
All Tank had done that evening was sit at his desk and make call after call to see which cards were geniunely stolen or not. He had little hope that this killer was as crafty as everyone thought he was. Who would put a sachet of garden poison in the kitchen bin? Surely it would have been wiser to pocket the ripped paper.

Tank was on the brink of falling asleep. He would check one more card before resigning for the day. He pulled out one with the name of Mr G. Jane stamped across it. Tank read out the number and the name for the man on the phone.

"Nope, that one's not stolen. I think you've found him Mr. Grunt."

"I sure hope so. Say, are there any records of his employment by any chance?"

A pause. The man spoke again. "Yeah, he works in the local garden centre."

"Right, well, thank you for you time then." He was heading there tomorrow.

Chapter 6
One look at the place and Tank had concluded that the garden centre was a dump. He strolled through the front entrance, deciding not to linger in case the whole lot collapsed on him. He went up to a nervous-looking man with olive skin and thick glasses.

"Hi there. I was wondering if you had this brand of garden poison for slugs and stuff." Tank said as he produced the torn packet.

"Erm..." he quickly scanned the store. He looked confused, like he was a new employee. "It's over there, I think." he pointed to the far corner. Why would the killer use this stuff? Wouldn't it be better to use arsenic or something else rather than this cheap and nasty stuff?

G. Jane... that guy's name tag said "Graham"... Graham Jane?

Tank didn't like this one bit. It was question time.

Chapter 7
Tank turned on his heel and went back to the young man. "Say, do you know a G. Jane here?" he asked, watching his body language carefully.

"Yeah... Gary, he's not in today." Graham replied.

"Right, it's just there was a recent murder, and we might be after a serial killer. This brand of poison," he held up the torn paper. "was found at the scene, as well as a wallet filled with stolen credit cards. Only one card was not reported as stolen and it belonged to a G. Jane. You see, he works here, and all you can say is a potential murderer is not in?" Tank was on the brink of shouting.

"Look, I didn't know that Gr-" he cleared his throat briefly "Gary was in trouble, OK?" he took a step back, not wanting to get hurt.

Tank shot him a funny look, and left briskly.

He was going to need some help.