I don't own Pinocchio

"Hi deedle dee-dee! This con life is for me," a voice was heard inside the dark gloomy distance at the Red Lobster Inn. Inside the inn were a cat, fox, and a man in a red suit also known as the coachman. The trio were laughing, smoking, and drinking as they heard the fox's little scheme. The fox laughed as he pulled out a stash of money from his pockets. He slapped the cash on the table. "We tricked that old fool didn't we Giddy?" he said as he looked at the cat.

Gideon, or "Giddy" in this case, nodded through his beer cup.

"My name is Honest John for a reason," the fox proudly said as he flipped through the money to see how much he had.

"More like dishonest," the coachman stated.

"Yes that too," John said as he admired the stolen riches, "my dishonesty led to the man's fate."

The coachman's evil eyes lit up as he leaned closer to John. "How did you manage to do it? No rich people come to this part of the village."

"Ha!" the fox laughed with glee, "you'd be surprised. Lots of rich people do come here. Take Stromboli for example. He is not that rich but his money sure pays well."

"Forget about that fool," the coachman impatiently said as he moved his hands in the air, "how did you kill the fellow?"

"I told that ol' sucker that if he did me one specific favor, I would pay him well. Giddy here," he indicated to the cat who was blowing out smoke circles from his mouth, "followed him to the bridge, tripped him, and the worst come to that old fool."

The lips on the coachman's face turned into a malicious grin. "This is the first murderous act I have heard from you, Foulfellow," the coachman said, "I'm impressed." He suddenly held out his hands in front of John, indicating for the money. "You might as well give me the money," he calmly said.

John looked at the coachman, at the money, and back to the coachman. "Why?"

The coachman put his hand down on the table and drummed his fingers on it. "I need all the money I could get to rebuild Pleasure Island again. Those stupid little boys had made such a destruction than the last ones."

John was hesitant to give him the money. He knew better than to argue with the coachman but he still didn't want to give up the wealth that he had stolen. "How much money are we talking about?"

"Plenty," the coachman emphasized as he spread out his arms.

John let out a nervous laugh, "wouldn't it be more reasonable if I held onto the money?" he asked as he held out the stack in front of him.

"No," the coachman said as he took the money out of his gloved paw. "Absolutely not and do you know why?" he asked as John shook his head, "because you would spend them."

"No I wouldn't," John said as he shook his head once more.

"Stop lying to me John," the coachman answered, as he gradually grew red in the face. "I'm not fooled by a fox."

John didn't say anything else. He did not want to feel the coachman's wrath. "What shall I get in return?" he finally asked.

"Hmm," the coachman said as the deeply thought about an offer to give John. A smile formed on his lips as he mysteriously added, "you'll see."

In the morning, John and Giddy exited out of the inn, in search of other victims that they could con or possibly murder. John didn't take any pleasure at murdering someone but he needed the money. He could not forget about last night and the conversation that he had with the coachman. John fast-walked down the street.

Giddy held onto his hat as he tried to catch up with John. When he did, he let out a puff of breath.

"He's not being fair Giddy," John finally said, "that money was mine, not his. Finders keepers. The boss gets all of the money and we get what is left of it. I successfully stole the money from that chump only to be taken away from me."

Giddy stopped walking and scowled at him, indicating the word I?

John nervously laughed, "I mean 'we,'" he corrected himself, "and 'us' of course."

Giddy smiled and gave him a quick nod.

"Sometimes being a conman is great sometimes its very difficult," John said. "If only there was a simple way to get money without doing any work." As he walked down the sidewalk, a piece of paper with bold letters was plastered on a wall. John stopped walking and looked at the bold print of the letters. "Look Giddy," he said. He turned his head and saw that the cat was skipping away. "Get back here you," he said as he grabbed him with his cane. "Look at this."

Giddy looked at the sign. He scratched his head at the words, indicating that he didn't know what it read.

"Scarlette Vinxington," John said as he looked at the name. "Sounds like a name for a rich dame. Well just our luck, she wants a gentleman to marry her. Well," he said as he straightened himself. "I'm going to be the first one then."

Giddy made a face at him.

"Why do you ask? Because I am charming, I am sly, and I can talk," John said, "you my friend," he said as he pointed at Giddy, "will do what you do best."

Giddy nodded and jumped for excitement.

"That's right Giddy," John said, "steal all her riches and we finally have a one way ticked to east street," the fox happily shouted as he pumped his paw in the air. "Hi deedle dee-dee, this con life is for me," he sang as the two con men disappeared into the distance.